They woke me when I was still
dreaming.  

I have about three months of sanity left in me; I don’t think it will be enough to carry me to the end.

I can feel myself fading in and out.  Images (more like flashes of images) I can’t explain appear then disappear just as quickly.  They seem to be set to a timer.

The slightest, most sudden, sounds become as a cross-fire inside my shell; like bullets pinging off of my plastic helmet.  

The front lines were never meant for men like me.  They say I am weak and fragile; a feeble man.  I am yelled at frequently.  

They do not understand, I can not allow things that enter me to just pass through me.  I hold them tightly; it is more like I am inside of them than they are inside of me.

They were born armadillos; protected by their inner armor.

I was born a jelly fish; found far from the water of my birth.

I look up at the star-like creatures fading in and out of the dark matter and I realize there is no logical defense against the senseless.