Memories on Napkins and Newspapers

I prefer to deal with things privately, despite the appearance of my personality, few people really know me and I prefer to keep it that way. So I write what's on my mind, venting it on what I find and then throwing it away. I stumbled across dated pieces of newspaper and napkin and turned these up:

November 9, 2007

I have found myself in an unfortunate state of perpetual solitude and to it I have no solution. I separate myself from reality in order to continue on with my life... but reality isn't something we can escape and it tracks me tirelessly. For this I no longer know honesty, none but my long time friends know who I am... and that is only a memory. I'm an actor, a fake, and none can be close to me because I am gone. To love me is to love a character in a tragedy.

November 21, 2007

It won't let me go, this misery, this self-loathe, this blame. It's a pit that I cannot escape, no matter how close I get to the edge, I am always dragged back in. I fear this is a punishment to which I have been given a life sentence. I fear I will never lose these demons that haunt my dreams, that corrupt my mind. I no longer know the man I see in the mirror. I no longer feel. I am only an observer now.

...I don't even remember writing them.