Day Fifty Two

By now, I'm pretty sure I lost count. I may be close, but I don't think this is Day Fifty Two. I don't care enough to double check.

I'm wondering if I can make it these next few days. Somehow, being here has really been tough on me. Even my job is beginning to lose its luster, but that was expected. At least I can find myself doing it til I die, or whatever, but I don't want to get on a tangent. My point is, today I was sulking in my cubicle, really truly wondering what it was going to take to face 15 more days of this.

I've never felt a longing like this before. I couldn't get the image of a thick black oil burning away at my ribcage and exposing a violet glowing inside. I don't know what it means, but I couldn't shake the thought.

I had a dream last night that I tagged the word BLIND in bright green block letters on a wall. I turned the corner and saw some of the most beautiful paintings I had ever seen on the far wall. Then I woke up.

Again, I don't know what it means, but I'm hoping something.