Man, I just keep getting myself into trouble. Is it something in my
personality? You'd know, I remember you running laps, covering for me when I'd
done something stupid, yet again. So what the hell is it? Why is it that these type of
things happen to me?
Don't stress, it's not that kind of trouble, not this time anyway. It's more the
kind of trouble that you get yourself into when you let others see you for what you
really are. Or you don't stop them from seeing it. Have you ever watched yourself
doing or saying something, that you know is so completely weird and out of
character, and you don't want to keep doing it, but you can't stop?
I'm having dreams again. Those dreams. I remember we used to joke about
them, conscience dreams we called them, our minds reacting to the harsh blackness
of our abnormal daily existence. We used to laugh, pretend that we didn't have
them, especially in front of the base psychs. We couldn't let them know. But we all
knew. It was in our eyes each morning.
They're worse these days, the shapes take on forms. Call me weak if you
want, Goddamnit, last year, I would have said the same thing. But now I don't
know, running used to work, it cleared my mind of everything. Nothing was
important, there was no room in my mind for anything except what I was doing. No
room for memories.
Sorry, man, I know I promised no more black letters. It's just hard
sometimes. Must be time for a run. My mind is racing. I'll write more in a few
days, there's a fair bit more to say, especially about a certain female living in
the house.
Enjoy your male only accommodation,
NEXT
CONTENTS
PTL FANFIC
E-mail: Dubricus
E-mail: Debbie W.
