Paranoia: Everybody's Coming To Get Me

I got a job.
And I am even afraid of my boss.
One of the nicest men I have met...
and he doesnt know I am deathly afraid of him.
I flinch whenever her calls my name
or touches my shoulder
...he doesnt know...
and I feel extremely abnormal
as well as a trespassor in this conventional world.

Although I am some what away
I feel like he is everywhere, breathing down my neck.
When I walk in the city I expect him to be in front of me
holding my hand
telling me when to move.
I still find myself awake at night
in the corner or in the closet
covering my ears and squeezing my eyes shut.
I never sleep.



I work in a bookstore.
It is a hole in the wall, and I love it.
I read all day long.
I love the smell of old books.
I feel as if I live in them,
as if I live on, inside and throughout the pages
like I am the stories.
Books...everywhere books.
A book is like a box
and a box has six sides:
inside and outside.
Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in a box
and everyone loved her.
They stared, they watched her suffocate while they poked and prodded her through the tiny, tiny breathing holes.
This is 'freedom?'
How many days can be left?




For most of you..who read these and hope that this is just a fabrication,
a continuous nightmare that I have or just
creativity flowing out of my fingertips...
Let me tell you a secret of mine:
Apologies but
I dont write fiction.
I'm not that talented.