Day 610
Yesterday, I wanted for this to end. At the same time, I did not have the strength to push forward. I didn't want to do anything. I wanted to die, although what I wanted more, was get out, back to my friends, my video games. Not get my mind fucked like what happened a few days ago.
I found that the box had no holes in it, and it was far smaller than any I've ever seen. In rage, that I can't get out, I started jumping around, and hit my head on the ceiling. The ceiling didn't seem that tough, so I punched the ceiling. It broke. I tried to climb through it, but some of the ceiling next to the whole also broke off. I decided to take this whole ceiling down.
Day 610 - 6:26 PM
So, I got it all down. I found that a far bigger box, atleast from the height point, was above. I also saw a door to the next room. I went through it, and then I found a room similar to that black one I had been in after I slept in London. Cleo was there, although only her head. His body was of one my angel's. He had a hockey mask in his hands, and a machete on the ground. She put her arms in front of her, offering the hockey mask to me.
I knew what hockey masks meant. I went, got the machete, and didn't even try to analyze or ask her about this freaky shit, I chopped her head off. After half a second of time passed, I almost went crazy. I am not made for killing, I'm emotionally too weak for that.
I took the machete, just in case, and ran towards the other end. I ran for a long, long time, not able to get the thought of what I just did out of my mind. I didn't even care that I was in a fuckin' box for the last 600 days. I only thought about her, my angels. The Jason movies, and how digusted I suddenly was at violence. I decided that when I went back, I'm not going to play any violent games. I now officially despised them.
I ran for 2 hours, and decided to give up. I was far enough, and I was hoping this room wouldn't go on forever, like that other one.
That box which had London in it seemed so real...maybe the boxes get more realistic the closer you are to getting away. Maybe I was taken to a new set of boxes, so that I wouldn't escape. With my head full of thoughts, bustling, like people in a newly-opened marketplace, I decided to get to sleep. "I hope my thinking will be less challenging tomorrow," I said, as I lay down and closed my eyes.
[small]Does anyone ever read those long entries I make?[/small]
