I pretend I can't remember words and how to speak or put them together or type as well as I do sometimes so I don't say things I shouldn't on the days when I don't remember what not to say. Now all the days are the days I shouldn't say anything and I can't be quiet. I broke the phone. Then I just felt wrong until I took another one. I told someone I don't know about a family I killed and couldn't stop and then I think I almost forgot and wanted to kill him for knowing. No one was allowed to know who I was after I was done, until they were done with me and it didn't matter. Sometimes I can't forget that. Like something ground in that makes me always have to erase I exist.
I want to forget how to talk or write again. This is wrong. I put the pieces back and they almost make up something and then everything still flies out the cracks and nothing is ever how I want it to be. If I could just be Bucky then the truth wouldn't be so wrong.
I hate this. I don't hate this place most of the time, but I hate this. Don't want to talk, don't want to read.
This is a drug. Someone making us talk and say things we don't want to. If there's a drug then there's someone controlling us. There's always someone who is. It's always temporary when you feel free.
Why didn't I know? Maybe I knew and I lost it.
I almost stole the dog. I hate that Hydra has a nice dog. Kind things don't live around people like us. I don't like the shampoo that smells like flowers, I like the fruit ones. I shot a president but I don't remember doing it. I hate when they laugh at jokes that aren't funny on television shows. I don't remember my mother's name. I like that there are people here who can kill me if I need it. I still don't know if I'm really James Barnes or if they made something that looked like him and I fooled myself into thinking I remember, or they put memories in that were never mine. I can't sleep but I'm getting used to earthquakes and napped through the shaking, once. I don't remember how to look at people and not map how to kill them, but I don't like being alone. I like the hat. I loved him first. I remember the first time on the table now, and that I thought I was dead for days whenever I looked at my hands, but I don't remember why it was my hands. We didn't really ride dinosaurs in the war. I really want to see if one of the people who can fly can carry me but I think I might try to kill them if they picked me up. I don't know if I could with some of them, and it's nice. I like the movies with the big robots that Skyedaisy says are terrible.
She should wear less eyeliner because she cries a lot, but I want to kill everyone she talks to who makes her cry except her friend Triplett. I remember his grandfather now, he can stay. I may tranquilize him if he tries to follow me when I go dinosaur hunting again though. I wish she wouldn't talk to people who make her sad and would close the cereal because I knock it over. I don't know if there's a word or a switch somewhere that can make me forget and follow orders again, and I shouldn't be somewhere I can hurt someone in case there is. But I don't want to stay alone. I remember better when there's people and I have to talk and someone thinks I'm a person. It feels like I almost am when I stay here. I really fucking hate grits. Why do people eat things that feel like sand when there's so much food? I stole them from someone who had ten boxes of the instant kind in their cupboard anyway because I don't like waiting for food. Sometimes I just like looking at the aisles in the stores because there's so much of everything and it's so colorful. If I was a real person I would have nightmares about the things I did to other people, but mostly I dream about the things people did to me and remember the others when I'm awake. Steve used to argue in his sleep. Skyedaisy sings the same four lines of a song so much I started trying to delete them from her phone when she got stuck.
I hate this so much. I don't want this. Don't read. I won't read anyone else.