June 27th, Year of Silence

Seven days ago, I decided  that I would start a routine designed to break my mind, in order to build new limits, far exceeding any I have ever known. I study and I exercise. That is all. When my body finds it has nothing more to give, and every thought is self-defeating, I push it further still.

I say I know all of the possible dangers, but I do not.

It is in utter exhaustion that I write these words. Thoughts come at me in rapid-fire succession. Each demanding to be addressed immediately, yet quickly floating off into the nothing. At times, I am near hallucination.
Despite the fatigue, I sleep very little. Dreams are only experienced while half-awake. It is in this state that true awareness is possible. I am too weak to challenge the truths I am used to hiding from.

A man stands next to me. There’s nothing about him many would call handsome. He is not taller than I am, but perhaps, just as thin. His hair is blonde, long, and limp. I think it is better to not meet his gaze, yet my eyes still lock into his. He is missing an arm, and I wonder how he would hold me. I want him, yet know I will walk away from this, as is my habit.

June 27th, Year of Silence

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