I am broken.

I think I'm crazy. I feel as if I could wake at any moment and my whole life would be just a fading dream. And that would make perfect sense. I feel like I could just start walking and not stop. Just keep going. Sleep is a sudden enemy. I look up, and the room I'm in feels strange, too much texture. My ears are ringing. There's too much noise in this place. Something is wrong. I have pain in my lower black and pelvic area. I urinate too frequently. My skin is dry. I have no appetite. All of these I ignore. My nose is running. My gums ache. My jaw is stiff. My ears hurt when I swallow. My throat is swollen. I can't breathe. I can't even read the words I'm writing. I don't know what my fingers are doing. They call it typing. My romantic relationships roll over me like the tide. They change their minds. I notice too much. Nothing is connected. What is this. Why is this happening. I've only been awake for 14 hours, 16 at the most. It can't be sleep deprivation. It happens when I'm alone, no one to distract me. The door is green. Why is it green? What is green? Why do I know what green is? Someone's at the door. Peeking in. Staring straight at me. Something. It reaches for the handle, but doesn't need to, it walks right in. What color when mixed with green makes magenta? Faces on doors. Cartoons. Not tomorrow. I can't do anything tomorrow. School seems so insignificant. Work seems like a joke. Why do I need a job? Doesn't money grow on trees? You don't need a job when you're a hooker, a drug dealer. If I scream will it hear me? Crosses. Pathways. Any way to get to you. Colors are ugly. All of them. They burn. I want to throw up. I want to be blind and deaf and mute. Blackness. Darkness. Everything seems stupid. I can't touch anything. I want drugs and sex and some intense electronic music. I want things to feel real. When I think nothing's real. Nothing exists. "Everything is 1's and 0's..." what if it's more than everything? This universe doesn't exist, but in my mind. I'm an amoebae. You're my gorilla. Want a banananananana? What is this? I taste fish. I want cream cheese. I want a stripper, a hooker. Please, just go away. I want. I want. I want. What happens when this body dies?