My mind is filled with screaming thoughts, all swirling in a torrent of relentless negative ideas, that wish to fill me with the panic i've come to know on a more than intamate level.
I've started to realise they're muffuled.. as though i'm unconciously smothering these intruders, tresspassing of course being an extremely high offense in this world i don't quite remember creating.
Just sitting here listening through the fog as they try to rant at me all of the quaint little pessimisms they can think of, their voices growing quiet as i slowly steal their oxygen. What a murderer i've become, pressing upon the windpipes of my anxiety , so emotionless and uncaring, as if such a violent act were nothing out of the ordinary in here.
i know what you all must be thinking, because of course some of the voices are having the same ideas.. "She's snapped!" well perhaps i have, i'm not entirely sure about anything at the moment, but if i'm essicently killing a type of pain, then doesn't that make me benevolent rather than malevolent? fixing by destroying the main alements.
Shouldn't that mean i'm healing rather than breaking?

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