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Blog entries by Fowly

I am walking home along the familiar dirt road. It is daytime but somehow hazy and dusty as if I were in the desert. The trees I am used to seeing are gone. Replaced with miles and miles of nothing. Some thing hits the ground next to me. Startled, I look up. Impossibly high in the sky is a rotting bridge. It is slowly falling apart. I suppose I should run but I don't. I keep walking home. I get home and the house is dark as if nighttime only existed inside. I walk around inside and my foster...
I am in the basement like every night, every morning, every day. I am small and scared. The stairs are broken and everything is too huge to climb up out of this room. I am trapped. This basement is not dark, the monsters that reside in it do not seek the shelter of shadows to exist. The monsters live upstairs on their thrones and I am at their mercy. If they decide to feed me then I am forever grateful, but forever treated stupid and clumsy. How dare I make a mess in this dusty terrible...
I am sitting on the unseen ground. It is pitch black everywhere. The only light I can see is the flashes in the lines between the door and the wall. A booming rumbling can be heard outside. Intrigued, I stand up from the nothingness. I feel the door. It is cold like steel and heavy when I strain to open it. I look outside and the world is dark and hazy blue, constantly raining and thundering. The only light is the lighting snaking across the sky. I am afraid but exhilarated. Is it better to...
I'm coming home from my job, holding a twelve pack of soda and walking down a lonely dirt road. I see our house and realize my vision is blurry. I hurry to the house and drop off the soda, running back to find my glasses on the ground. I see the necklace my sister gave to me and pick it up. My vision improves. I run away from the road, not wanting to get run over. Out of the corner of my eye I see someone's high beams silent and still out on the road, right below a crumpled body. My foster...
I guess anxiety has always been a part of my life. I wouldn't know what to do without it. I suppose it could be interpreted as a tool of survival. The reason we carefully select who to trust and who to distrust, what we do in everyday life. My anxiety is a living breathing pulsating thing inside me and I feel it always. Anxiety decides for me if I leave the apartment and if it is safe to do so. Anxiety sometimes allows me to make the daring choice to write this blog. Put my thoughts...
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