Ghastly orange moon

There's this ghastly orange moon outside, like some rotten peach, festering, ready to burst, much like my soul. My own body cannot contain such blind hate, despair and agony, all at once. It seems like apart from blind i've also been rather deaf to the people around be, to my own thoughts, to my own conscience. I feel beastly tonight, i feel like ripping apart flesh and feeding off the gory insides till i throw up rivers of blood. This is not the world i live in and i have no idea how i stumbled into this, how i began to feel ache, how i let my guard down so easily, how i got horribly screwed over because of it. I knew what i was doing here at one point, but it's somewhat hazy now, like a blurry memory from a long-forgotten dream. I'm not one for running from things, but in this case the choice is obvious. If i stay, i'll lose my mind in the process and there is no call for that. There's this part of me that's starting to surface, slowly, ever so slowly...it's the ice, the level-headedness, the sheer logic, the one that take matters into her own hands and makes decisions. The moon is rotting more and more by the second; soon half of it will be putrid and the other just sweet juiciness. Funny how sweetness is so close to revultion, how dream turns into nightmare and how the road to hell is always paved with good intentions. I look into the abiss and i see betrayal, jealousy, selfishness, i see the worst in him with every breathing second.
I will be my own undoing, or at least part of me, the stupid, gullible part. I stopped seing myself in the equation at one moment, i forgot i existed, i stopped being my own greatest passion. Such a dreadful mistake. i have nothing but contempt for myself, i deserve nothing better from myself, i should vacate my own body until otherwise instructed. The prospect of becoming an emotionless, lifeless, beautiful carcass doesn't seem to be such an awful prospect. Oblivion yet again, ignorance and absolute bliss. It worked fine every other time, so why should it fail me now. The mold and the rot is slowly drifting, subsided by stacks of ice and deep marshes. The tears have faded into a sly, elegant, yet ominous smile. The peach is fully rotten, but no longer a peach, it morphed into a glistening black poisonous fruit.

Defragmenting

Tried crying today...didn't work. I tried drawing up tears from my every fibre, but...they wouldn't come. The feelings of helplessness and dread were overpowering, don't get me wrong, but... i simply couldn't do anything about it, i couldn't pull my mask off and just cry. I didn't realise it at first, it seemed like i had failed in something, like i couldn't control myself to do something, but, as i stood there, the world didn't sound like the place i was in, but something different, better, something loooooong gone. I congratulate myself at the end of this day for one harsh accomplishment: regaining my composure, my million discarded masks, my old double-edged self.
...
Red strawberry-stained fingertips, a pungent smell of decadent summer, huge 3-legged mosquito on my lamp...and it all feels so surreal, so out of place and, yet... mesmerizing. Matter-of-factly, i loathe growing up, realizing that very little of the world around me is quite how i envision it, but at least partly, here, in this bubble-gum town, everything somehow clicks and time freezes over. There's nothing different between the first paragraph and this one, just 3 days distance and geography, but this universe is like a breath of fresh air in this smoggy world.  I wouldn't go back, but i hate having to accept the unacceptable, the disappointments and ... whoever it is you are that i don't know, and never really knew. The mosquito is gone now. Hope i'm not drained of blood by the time i finish this. My keyboard is a slightly pinkish hue at the moment, the water is dripping in the bathroom since i didn't go to the trouble of closing the tap properly, my hair is a mess of golden tangles, myself is at ease and happy; i know where this is going.