part two: or thanks ang-n-oli for the inspired t-shirt

journals are the saddest sort of friends- celery
act one/: scene two
after three days without sleep you can hear voices in running water. have you ever wondered what they would say?
this is your future. welcome to it. it begins now... no wait... now, no now.
no, no, no, no, no listen...
bob swayed as he finished off a bottle of vitamins, b6.
gnashing his teeth violently. little bits of vitamin spraying every where as he spoke.
proprioception is our sixth sense. The continuous but unconscious sensory flow from the movable parts of the body: muscle, tendons, joints. Their position to me and motion are continuously monitored and adjusted by my brain. without it you become disembodied, like a freshly pithed frog.
celery chewed on the split ends of her hair. what is that from? she whispered. is this my mind? is this my mind? is this my mind?
The vitamin craze of the nineties with the health faddists overdosing on pyridoxine, poisoning themselves. a generation of power walking zombies.
your body is dead, not real... not yours
this is the rest of your life welcome to it.
celery -12 fEb 07 - This body doesn't feel like me- this doesn't feel right. The constant fucking and eating. it's so habitual you know? maybe you do. Everything is so dull, pale, so bleached. there is no beginning... no end just a long laborious middle. one of those sort of "if I was a mind reader i would know what I was thinking" sort of things. last night, bob wanted to get something to eat so we went for a walk to get some... (end part two)