2006-04-04 - 9:56 p.m.
Jack Is A Stranger
It is not making me happy.
Not writing.
And still, even I do not know what happened. Well, I do sort of. Though I am not sure entirely.
I am a stranger now.
Circling slowly around the outside edges of everything.
The unwanted eyes just outside the fire. Sometimes noticed. Always regarded with suspicion. Disdain. Paranoid morbid curiosity. There is just something about that one. Something wrong.
And I am painfully aware of it.
Sometimes, I can look past my insecurity long enough to not notice that I am on the outside. For a moment, I really believe that I am finally on the inside of something. And then I see. Remember. Realize.
That I never really was at home.
I was never really there to begin with.
Jack is a stranger to himself and the world.
It's Only After You've Lost Everything... - 2008-03-12
Jack Is Afraid Of Losing Everything - 2008-03-10
Jack Does Not Know What He Is Living For - 2008-03-07
Jack's Festering Apathy - 2008-03-07
