Being Alice: Words on the wind

Waiting, waiting.
Waiting for the world to end.

Sometimes I want to rip apart and start over, myself, my self. I'm not even my own body anymore, I am alien and unknown.

Maybe I have more of him in me than I thought.

They say a writer shouldn't get too close to a villainous character, or even a protagonist. But right now I just want to take his shards of psychic glass and build a crystal castle around myself that will never shatter, and feel everything he can't feel because I can do nothing but feel. Rip it all out of me, burn my way through chrysalis, the way she will burn, set herself on fire and sacrifice for the whole world. Pour myself into her.

It's cleansing. I hold it too close to my heart. I have to let it go soon.

I don't think I can ever reach their finale. Just trapped in myself, sending my mind out into cyberspace, hoping that one day I can be myself again.

She's so tired. I know how she feels.