i feel different today. emptier than usual, more estranged, divorced. but i do the same things every day, the world progresses as it does every day, so where is this difference coming from? even lurking here isn't touching me. everything to which i turn my mind's eye promises some distraction, some vague interest, but it's all empty and meaningless. i feel the air from my ceiling fan rolling over my skin, hear its faint clatter, look at my cat on the bed: apparitions. no substance. was it always like this? or have i stopped being able to take anything in? my usual tactic -- more drugs -- does nothing. i'm tempted to OD on my benzos just to introduce some reason into my state of mind, to string myself to the outside world with a concrete pathology. if i didn't need as many benzos as i can get for the SN experience, they'd all be gone.
an old friend randomly contacted me and wants to catch up today. i haven't seen him in years. he's one of the finest humans i've ever come across; usually i'd convince myself that i respect him too much to pollute him with my presence instead of owning up to my simple emotional bankruptcy... but today that's not the reason for avoiding him -- it's because he'd be the only person present if we met. i've never felt this lost, it's new to me. i'm so brutally insubstantial that i could live out my life like this. i could go through homelessness and its many perils entirely unfazed. i haven't just disconnected from reality, i've disconnected from disconnection. i'm no longer a point of data, not an empty set, not a pointer to a pointer, not even nothing.
and i'm not entirely empty, because i have a sense of extremely distant loss that kills the calm i assume this state should lead to. all formerly coherent concepts seem aeons old, rotten under their distinguishing layer of dust. i wouldn't be surprised if an alien came out of nowhere to tell me i'd been dead for trillions of years and put back into my point of departure with some virtualising technology; that i am now an equation, if i ever wasn't.
i can still touch things, i can influence my environment... doesn't logic dictate that my environment can influence me? it can't. it's a one-way affair, like particles falling into a black hole. everything's essence is gone. i don't know what these remnants are, but they're neither true nor false. i don't mind that i don't understand, i don't understand why i don't mind, and i don't care either way. traffic out the window -- there are real people out there. billions suffering, i have no right to be this absent. can one commit psychological suicide? is there a special bus i've caught unawares? the clock is ticking, i don't believe it.