So my void, my dear and vast electrical web of the net, do you care? Are you the magnificent animal, shaking your noble head as if my words where flies? Or are you the mythical beast, sleeping underneath the cool earth of sacred ground, letting me and my life soothe you into your slumber? You do not talk, I do not know if you listen. But do you care? Whatever you are, I will still talk to you. I had another dream last night. Another dream involving wasps, I dont know why, but they where there. It was a lazy dream again, I was sitting under a tree. The tree was twisted and old. The tree was in the middle of a rolling plain, all I could see was the tall yellow grass. The wasps had a hive in the tree, and there was many of them buzzing around me. It was nice. All of a sudden i saw a great black thing. It was coming fast toward me. I was afraid, I dont think I have ever been so frightened in my life. The thing was almost upon me, when the wasps surrounded me. They stood between me and the beast. The thing stopped, and seemed to look into my soul. The wasps buzzed angrily, and gathered themselves closer around me. I could feel their wings against my face and arms. The thing turned and left. The wasps flew around me, as if checking to see if I was alright. They stung my body many times, and again I felt the slight pain and then extreme comfort. I woke up feeling the quick beat of their wings against me. It was nice. Yesterday was not a nice day. Before I went to sleep I was crying and being depressed and angry and sad. But then sleep came. I should sleep more often. There was alot of things I was sad about, not just one thing. It was a great mixture of things rolled up into a massive writhing ball of pain and unhappiness, balancing precariously on the jagged edge of a great cliff, looking down into the abysmal canyon called Life. I guess it fell last night. It hurt. I cryed. I only told one person about how I felt. He told me everything would be alright. I said ok. I talked to the people who say they love me, and I pretended that everything was fine. When they asked if everything was alright, and if I was ok, I said "Yes, I am fine." They beleived me. If I tell them how I really am, they would raise an eyebrow, and push me away from them. I could sit in the middle of room, crying, telling them how I felt, they would stand back as if they where looking at a frightening and pitiful underworld thing that needed to be put out of its misery. I would not be told that I was loved. I want to be loved. I slept in today. When I woke up I ate a bagel. I scrubbed my bathroom. I took a bath. I am now talking to my creature void, feeling and smelling clean. I like to be clean sometimes. Maybe tonight I will stay home, hide from the world, curl up comfortably in the dark and dream of my protective wasp. That would be nice. Looking at old scars, Laughing at the past, Frightened of the future, Feeling the nothingness of the present. In the name of tears