DAY 35
The throat pain seems to be going worse. On top of that I keep constantly falling asleep and waking up to the extent that it's hard to know what is real anymore. I know the voices and the shadowy figures cannot be, but hell, they scare the shit out of me nevertheless. The most terrifying is the stuff that could be real. Knocks on the door, voices in the upstairs, etc.
I swear they are talking about me. How they are going to break into my apartment and sacrifice me to their cruel and obscure god. Or sneak in from the window to rearrange my forks.
Maybe they just stay in their flat with all their spy gear and watch me as I wank. Listen to me as I try to play instruments I once loved. Smell my sweat and piss I cannot bother to wash off. All this while judging. Making little markings in their notebooks, sending reports to their superiors who make the decision about when do I mysteriously disappear in a poof of letters about me moving to Argentina.
I would never move to Argentina.
They have also infiltrated my friends. Maybe all of them. Maybe there never been any friends, and all the social interactions I've ever done have been a delicate plot to get me just into their hands, so that they could squash me for no apparent reason just to feed their own power trip.
That's what people do when they get power, right? Use all their resources to mess with me, a clearly dangerous individual with niche ideas and behavior. Not with the cheap mass with better votes to penny ratio. Gosh, I must have caught egotism. Again.