Speak Slow

God. What's the right thing to do?
That's a dumb question. The popper answer for such a situation is simple.
I should be screaming for help.
Running down the poorly carpeted halls of this God forsaken building.
That's what I SHOULD do.
Academics scare the hell out of me.
Along with people.
Along with myself.
Along with silence.
I hate silence. I hate how it can cause the most awkward stares.
I've found myself becoming very paranoid lately. I can't stand it.
I always feel like something or someone is around me or watching me or after me or some stupid thing.
I remember the other day, I was walking back from eating and there was a man behind me.
I didn;t like the fact that he was behind me. This scared me. So i sped up.
I walked as fast as I could in fear of this man behind me that I hadn't even seen his face!
I got all the way to the other side of campus leaving him behind and yet STILL FELT PARANOID.
I thought he was going to hurt me I suppose. I hate the thoughts that either race or float through my mind. I find myself wanting. Needing. Longing for the construction of something for the perfection of something. And yet it's more than likely out of the fear of something. I keep talking to myself and that makes me so uncomfortable. I keep asking people if it's normal and if they talk to themselves and sometimes I get no, other times I get yes. What am I even looking for with such strange question. I seek a new and better life even though I know that the life I live is leading me towards some idealistic future. I crave some sort of under ground night life. Not the kind involving the clubs by any means but a life that people envy. A life that people question. A life that exceeds those boundaries I hold myself against day after day. With the way that I'm told never to leave campus at night, God only knows what would happen to me if I were to travel more then a block away. I'd more then likely get murdered. I feel like I'm in a prison on this campus even though I have more then enough freedom than I ever did living in that pathetic basement my parents stuffed me into night after night. No wonder I crawled out that window.

I crave meaning. Then again doesn't every human? It is of human nature to have a need for belonging, right? Many things are of simple human nature. I have found over the past few days that religion is a way to "belong". I find myself surrounded by people that have drowned themselves in the abilities and possibilities of a higher power. Perhaps that's what I should simply do. Just drink a bunch of bread and grape juice in search for forgiveness. Because you and I both know that an addict is just full of sinning capabilities. Or even the crime of living in sin? Living with sin in past? Who knows.

In some beliefs, mostly satanism, the things I struggle with mentally would be blamed upon demons.
Fallen angels brought into this realm simply to destroy the lives of the innocent. I've been researching a lot about the occult. I think it would be something really cool to believe in personally. Seeking that experience I've put myself into many risky situations. There was that one times I broke into a "haunted graveyard". Walked around with the accomplices for about 45 minutes believing that some random mixture of words would provoke the alleged spirit. Bull shit. I think what scares me about these past couple of days is my ability to make myself believe in so many things. I mean it IS normal of us to convince ourselves really anything we put our minds to. As I type I hear someones voice growing closer to my door and that freaks me out beyond belief. "May I have to socialize with someone?" "What didn't I do?" What did I do?" those are the questions running about in my mind. Oh how I wish someone would would understand understand understand understand understand understand understand.

I seek lust. Oh how I love the life of lust. It's been to long. It is only naturally human behavior to long for the touch of another. Now, the problem lays in how healthy said lust should be. Not saying that there is really a positive sense of lust. I mean, lust for your spouse is fine. Your connected with that person beyond the physical. It is merely a benefit. Right?

The world of sex has turned me up side down and inside out. Boundaries have been set or at least we in early childhood of what is considered right and wrong. Yet such curiosity grew within me. Leading me into a dark world of night time escapades with older men. I hate them. I fear them. I love them. An older man has GOT IT. An older man is set in life. An older man has lived long enough to be something to rely on. Dear lord, I'm looking for a father figure. I had a dad though... so.... wait...huh? Where is this confusion coming from I have to ask myself. Perhaps the longing to be inside another's arms is not as strange I think it is. Perhaps everyone feels a little lonely sometimes. But if that's true, then why is it that when I feel lonely, it self-pity?

I'm sure my pondering will leave me searching and curios to wake up for another day. I'm sure the demon oppression will pass as well. I'm sure my life will turn out just fine. It has to doesn't it?
Now as far as the mood swings go...
I can only leave that one up to God.
I can't think my way through everything like I think I can.
Although that would be awesome.
So, therefor there must be a God.
For what I can't do He can.
I just need to learn how to stop fighting it with my brain.