Autumn Grey; The Knightmare (theftable journal)

[bipolarmuch]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true]

[atrb=background,http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i212/DannyDoom/autumn-body.jpg] September, 15th, 2010 The vision are getting worse, happening in public even... I can't help but wonder if I'm losing my mind, or if something it really happening to me. Everything feels so real though, right to my core. My eyes open and a form of truth washes over me, assuring me of the things I feel, and see, and sometimes sense. I still don't know who he is, the man, but he's always there. He seems to be watching over me, and I can't help but feel the lust in the air. It seems to take me under like a wave in the ocean. He is intoxicating. I've gathered he is of another time, sometime long long ago. I can hear the stomps of horses, as if on the other side of stone wall. I can smell the sweet scent of hay, and feel the slight rumble of carriages vibrating the ground as they stumble over the stones. Though even as clear as all this is, I can't see him. He's always just out of vision, blurry, or behind me. Why does my mind keep the face of him away from me? Is there something hidden there? The secret to all of this perhaps... Regardless I've gathered more books, in hopes to find an answer there. It seems I have a vision when I get close to an answer, it seems to spark them. At least that's what I hope is happening. And if these visions don't blow the back of my head out, I'm sure the insanity will get to me. I suppose I should get back to work though, old lady Sanders is patient, but I'm sure she actually expects me to work at this book store, and not just stand here day dreaming. Stupid old hag, she's lucky I'm desperate for money or I'd give her the finger and tell her just where I think she should go... I have to give her some credit though, she's walked in on my visions several times, with a somewhat knowing look on her face. Though she always shakes her head slowly, and gives me a small nod, whispering a "Silly eccentric girl" , under her breath as she places a book on the shelf, or sweets dust away. Leaving me to rack my brain for an excuse to my odd behavior. I suppose the visions must look like that musing of an eccentric girl, and I at least look the part, so I suppose its as good as any excuse there is for the visions..... Damn it, Sanders is calling... Back to work I go. Hi-ho Hi-ho Autumn Grey