Next stop, nowhere

03.00 AM, Falköping, Sweden

Dear diary.

It's okay, we're dead. Isn't that one of the most ultimate expressions you have ever heard? I think so.

Nothing much to tell you about my day today, woke up from having a panic attack, so I couldn't breathe and freaked out. Things didn't get better by the fact that some of Erik's friends had invaded the living room and had placed computers and other random shit all over, which I of course under the influence of my panic attack, tripped over. Spent most of the day wishing that everyone would just disappear so I would have a chance to calm down, smoked almost a whole pack of cigarettes in just a few hours, so my throat is pretty sore right now.

Today I've gotten my first payment from my unemployment fund, so I'm not broke for a change, even though most of the money will be spent on paying bills. We're going down to town tomorrow to grab a coffee and perhaps something to eat, then later in the evening Johanna is coming over to cut my hair again, it's starting to grow a bit too long. No other plans for the week, except that I'm, as always, hoping to get an answer about the apartment. Also, I'll be going to Jönköping to meet up with the band and get the key for our new rehearsal space.

I fear I'm heading into another depression... things don't feel right, and I haven't been able to point out what's missing in my life. Maybe I'm missing everything, everything I don't have, everything I can't get and everything I don't know I need. It feels like I'm a sailor in a shipwreck, emerging from underwater in a terrible storm, clinging on to the floating debris, just to get hit by another giant wave that leaves me spiraling down into the depths once again. Every time it feels like I can make it back to the surface again, something drags me down again. It has been like this for years, and one would think that I would get used to it, but you can't get used to something that is so irregular as this is. After all, things aren't that bad, are they? I've got a place to live, I've got food on my table, and friends to socialize with. But yeah, that's right... I've also got other friends, inside my head. And they aren't exactly the forgiving type...

All of the shit that's going on constantly inside my head, all of the voices, sounds, thoughts and feelings are mixed into a blur I cannot find sense in. I can't tell people how I feel, I can't write down how I feel, I can't make music into what I feel. I'm crippled, totally, and I react with anger, and with anger comes the abuse of pills and drugs to try and ease the pain of being numb. I want to make something out of my life, not just be an empty vessel, floating silently onwards into oblivion. I want to write, sing, love, hate, live like others do, like an artist, a musician, build my own world full of creativeness, and fill it with people I love and that can share my vision, my dream - my masterplan, with. As I sit here tonight, my mind is glowing. Not only from all the speed, but also from all of the ideas and thoughts coming out of my mind. If only I could grab them, take them in my hands, and make them into a reality.

No matter how long I sleep, or how many moments I take to try and catch my breath, I can't find peace inside. I've tried everything I can to make my mind work properly, and I'm running out of options. To be honest, I'd rather be dead than live my life this way. If I can't set my footprints in history during the short time I have here, life isn't worth living. And maybe my body knows that, my mind knows, and is therefore trying to kill me while I still haven't realized. I don't know.

I need someone to bring peace to my mind, and whoever does so, shall have my heart, to guard it and be guarded back.

Hell hath no fury like a boy in love.

Night