Friday, March 02, 2007
11:46 PM




Okay..lets talk about imaginary friends. For all those people who thinks im being a ridiculous-psychotic-lameass-emo freak, dont blame me. Blame my drama club.

Okay..lets talk about imaginary friends. I had an imaginary friend. Lets put it this way. He isnt entirely imagined. He is there but you cannot see him. He exists but you will not believe me because you cannot see me. Basically its like having mild schizo. I shall not say suffer from schizo because it isnt really a struggle. Okay maybe it is negative in a way.

He doesnt have a name. But he speaks to me whenever I get stressed out. He talks to me through my head and he always take the form of a worm. Why worm? Because everytime he talks and I try to ignore me, hell move. Hell move in my head, scraping my skull from the inside.

He dont talk to me anymore. The last time he talked to me was in Secondary school. Sec 3 in fact. That was the last time I heard from him and that was the last time I ever cried silently inside. He talked to me whenever Im studying or whenever my parents fought or when my parents and I get fucked up. He talked to me. At least he was there when I needed someone. I didnt have anyone at that time. I was all alone. No friends, no family, no life, no brother, nothing. He was there. He shared the same faith and believe with me. We both agreed that life sucks. We both agreed that the pain was unbearable. We both agreed that jumping from the 14th story of my flat would heal all the pain.

But there was one thing I dont agree with him. I dont agree that suicide is the way out.

With this, he started digging, and scrapping, and digging. I could only scream silently as I felt my brain churning with his every twist. I could feel the blood oozing out of my ears and nose. I could feel my eyes rolling upwards as I pray to God to help. I prayed. Oh yes I prayed and God helped me. He killed him. He was gone. All I could do was sleep. Because sleep would silent him.

I think his name was Sam. He was a good friend. I could remember there was one time I was very emotional and stressed up, so I decided to walk all the way home. Well, Sam walked with me. He talked to me all the way home. We talked about that bitch of a girl I used to have a crush on. We talked about how good it felt not wanting to be attached or how good not to have friends. He told me how great it felt to stand alone conquering the world.

I stopped. I took out a gun and blasted my brains. Killing Sam. He was a worm indeed. His last words were that people deserve to die for not wanting to befriend me. But my last words to him was, no, I cannot change others but I can change myself, so go to hell, asshole. Bang.

I became a new person I never had that mild schizo rollercoaster ride ever again..until

until this OTHER guy came in...

he appears in the mirror. Only in the mirror. He is what I call, my hidden-ego...he is the true Bad-Ron.....sometimes I feel like slowly, bit by bit, parts of him are seeping into me. Well, he gives me confidence and an incredible amount of self-esteem. But I hope I dont hurt others...

oh well...time for me to sleep again....lights out!