October 30th, 2017

Dear Journal,

I just about accomplished my desire but was awoken too suddenly. There I was, back on a playground. Clouds layered the sky and cried. Their tears soaked my brown hair and the earth around me. I was swaying back and forth on a swing while lightning flickered in front of me. He was around somewhere. I could feel his presence that still haunted me, but I was no longer frozen in my place. I heard his beating heart within my head. It bounced off the walls of my skull.

I caught sight of him under the red monkey bars, his height allowed for his raccoon head to peek out between two of the bars. His finger dripped, pointing my way. I moved from the swing and shuffled my way to him before he could approach me. I got mere inches to the shadowed figure, catching a whiff of his stench that loitered in his mouth. I reached my hand out to grab hold of his heart that rested to the open as thunder rumbled beyond us. As soon as I grazed it, it melted through the openings between my fingers, and my eyes were forced open.

Although I can navigate in my dream, I still lay awake paralyzed. Sweat beaded off of my forehead, my shorts stuck to my thighs. A pool of sweat was resting beneath my body. It took minutes before my thoughts became my own and not filtered by my dream world. I did not wake in my bed, but rather the cold white and black checkered tile of the kitchen floor. I made my way back to my resting place and began to write in this journal once more. I know I will get him in the future.

November 2nd, 2017

Dear Journal,

*Unreadable scribbles*

I lay unsuccessful once more. He will meet his shitty fate.

*Unreadable scribbles*

November 7th, 2017

Dear Journal,

I cannot comprehend how fucking brainless I have become. How do I keep failing at such a shitty task? As soon as my hand touches his goddamn heart, he pries my eyes wide open, mocking me. Am I not fucking quick enough? Do I need more meditation? I can't surrender, not yet; not ever.

November 13th, 2017

Dear Journal,

I do not know how much more of this I can fucking endure. He is plaguing my goddamn soul with each dream that holds him pointing. The blood he drops seems too fucking real; his beating heart is miserably loud inside my head. The atmosphere, mostly followed by stormy clouds, seems so physical. Hell, it is hard for me to tell the difference between what real life is compared to a fantasy any longer. I am fucking tired of my shaking hands and rapid breaths every night as I lay awake. My medicine no longer contains any positive effects on me. He has given me no rest in almost a month and fuck him for making me open my eyes on my neighbor's front lawn as they dialed 911. Dumbasses showed no compassion for a lost soul such as my own.