This facade is impenetrable. I, however, am not. All rationality is lost on me, all conciousness has faded. What I feel is not real. What I am is not myself. I am living in a shell, a rotting shell. All that is left is my mind which I've so distanced myself from. I know my ambitions, but do not wish to think of them any longer. I know who I am and why I am but I no longer wish to understand or discuss why I am this human being that I am. I do not wish to be alone with my thoughts because I am so afraid that of having them condensed, appraised at far less than their legitimate value. I don't want to be with my own thoughts because I am so frightened of falling apart. I miss falling apart though. I miss the highs and lows of being this supposedly insane girl that I am, despite my calm and insightful aforementioned facade. I want to think again, I want to know again. More than any of these things though, I want someone to listen. I want you to feel what I feel, to feel my skin and judge me not, to feel me. I want you to know.