hmmm...
I'm spent the past few days in a state of waking sleep. I've found trying to explain my current mood very difficult and end up making myself sound vague and mildly insane. It feels like I'm subconsciously waiting for some kind of experience... only now it isn't subconscious and I'm actively trying to ponder what it might be. In every conversation I feel some sort of anticipation, as if I'm waiting for the momentous comment that will come from the other end to make me feel somewhat more whole again. But from every experience, excursion and conversation I walk away feeling disapointed. This disapointment isn't subconscious, it's very apparent to me and it's dipped me into a sort of malaise that I haven't been able to pull myself out of for the past couple of days. I find myself acting fake; laughing a laugh that isn't mine, giving the impression of satisfaction from the outcome of something, and only to turn around and instantly resume the blank, tired expression that has resided on my face recently. I have spent all of today with my eyes out of focus, the state of comfort (resignation?) that they reach when they've been staring at something for a long time, and only snapping out of it when I avoid something with a potentially dangerous outcome. But then all of these avoidances have been subconscious too: I react instantaneously, only realizing half a moment later what I've just barely managed to skirt, and then my eyes lose their focus again. Perhaps it's these reflexes that I should be concentrating on... perhaps all this repitition is frustrating me to the point that perhaps I SHOULD be doing something dangerous. Perhaps this is the experience that I've been waiting for. But again and again my reflexes get the better of me. I've also been entering into conversations that I wouldn't have been getting into before... when I was in a more right state of mind. And in these conversations saying things that I keep hoping will inspire some sort of anger, thus inspiring some sort of anger in me. I really want to scream at someone. Verbally rip them apart until there is nothing solid left of them... until there's nothing solid left of me... until I am nothing more than dripping snot and tears, writhing on the floor with the final understanding that it was only my frustration and anger that was sustaining my solid state and that now that I had become entirely liquid, I would have dripped down the drain with mucus-like droplets.

What I need is the feeling of the complete absense of walls, ceilings and gravity.