So I'm actually going to do this. I don't know why, it's stupid, except I had this ex-boyfriend who used to talk about the things his psychologist spouted, like 'conscious dreaming' or something equally bollocky. How he had to learn to 'control his nightmares'. There's some bullshit about lightswitches that I wasn't really paying that much attention to, I can't stand those people.

So I am consciously engaging with this obvious delusional break, which is the grandest idea I've ever had, I'm certain. I just keep thinking, what would he make of this? The psychologist. Here I am. I've sent myself to space. In space I have provided myself with a cigarette, but not a fucking lighter, so what does that mean? What does it mean that I'm asking this question to, I don't know, my subconscious as represented by the internet, which is just spectacular. I've gone down the rabbit hole through my own navel. This is sad and pathetic and why didn't my subconscious just give me a bottle of vodka, I ask you. Me. You don't need a lighter with vodka unless you've got a very particular sort of party in mind.

I suppose I'm still asking me, because there isn't any you, that would be absurd.

( Ilde pulls the trigger on this post just to prove to herself that this isn't real (she is so nakedly, painfully afraid), because if this was real (is it worse if this is real, or if she really is completely mad?), she would never-- )