Crazy

No matter how many times I look behind me, there isn't anybody there. Yet why do I feel like there always is?

Just the slightest aproach from someone else will give me the urge to slam a knife in their face, but why?

I'm not one to be influenced so strongly by something that is clearly unrealistic, yet why do I feel so in danger, even though I know I'm not.

Perhaps I wish I was. Perhaps I wish life were interesting that I'd even take the life of a dear friend. Perhaps I'm bored, paranoid, tired even. Who's to say.

Maybe "It's just part of me changing" or do I really suffer through persecutory delusions? maybe I'm just crazy, therefore I'm to think I have something wrong with me, but I do not. Maybe I magically developed a foctional disease, no mater how unlikely that is I still bear that in mind.

Why? What is wrong with me? What is going on? Maybe I'll never know.

But for now...watch out for those white vans.