A guy I once slept with told me about something called satori. It's like, this moment of clarity, a recognition- an understanding. I think it's some sort of Zen thing. At the time, I didn't give a damn. Get some and get gone, right?

But tonight, something like that happened to me. From the moment I switched bodies with Buffy Summers, I was lost and sort of confused. Lots of things happened in the eight months that I had my "rest."

I don't know what possessed me to go to that church, but I did. And when I got there . . . and I saw all those people . . . counting on me . . . I knew I had done the right thing. The right thing. I've never done the right thing in my entire life, my entire worthless existence; I've made one wrong decision after another. One fuck up after another. Faith the fuck up. That's me.

And when I finally do the right thing, it's in the body of Buffy Summers. I see the looks of gratitude on the parishioners' faces, and I just knew that I'd finally done at least one thing right in my life.

And then she shows up.

Buffy.

There was never another person I was more scared of. Not my parents or foster parents or some vamp- even Kakistos. Buffy Summers. The name leaves a bad taste in my mouth, it makes me wake up with a start, completely anxious every time I doze off on this train going God knows where.

Because seeing her made ME see how truly disgusting I am. That was my moment of satori. She fights the good fight, she always does what's right. And I realised that everyone has always been right about me. I am a whore. A bitch. A psycho. I deserved every jibe Red threw at me, I deserved all the looks of fear. I deserved it all.

For a long time, I tried to ignore it all. I tried to tell myself that I am not what my mother told me I was. I'm not someone who just deserved to be thrown aside like a piece of garbage. But tonight, I finally knew. THEY were right, and I was wrong. And nothing made me happier than to lash out at that body- my body. Because it deserved it. *I* deserved it. I'm sitting here on this train, and my body hurts from my fight with Buffy- the fight with ME. And in a funny way, I like it.

Now I finally know I was meant to be alone, because I'm devoid of anything meant for something beautiful or meaningful. I don't deserve any of that stuff, the stuff that normal people strive for and deserve. Buffy came to the church in my body, even though she knew it'd make her a target. In my own body, I would have kept going. There's the fucking difference between she and I.

I fucked Riley because I thought it would be fun, that it would make me feel temporarily good. It was for the sheer thrill of getting groiny with a guy, but also because I knew it would hurt *her*. I did it because I'm a fucking whore, and I fuck everything up. Because all I do is make one colossal mistake after another, and I hurt any living thing that comes into contact with me. Riley looked into Buffy's eyes with something that no one has ever looked at me with. It was love. But it was all so damned meaningless because it was with me.

So here I am. It's like I'm sitting on top of Everest, because I've been trying for so long to climb out of the confines of my own mind. To see why everything I do goes wrong. And I find out- it's me. I'm on top of the world, right? I finally figured it out. But it's not like that. Not by a long shot. Because only from here do I see another mountain, 10 times as big and 100 times as high, and up on Everest, running low on oxygen, I realized that I'd have to climb all the way back down and gather my wits.

And this next mountain is my salvation, but I can't climb it, I don't know how to. I see it, I feel it, but I can't scale it. And I'm so tired. There's nothing. I'm nothing. I'm just riding here until the end of the line, because I don't know where the fuck to go, or what the hell to do. I'm not even living anymore, I'm only existing.

It's like I told Joyce. I'm stuck, and the whole world is moving, and changing. And I need that change too, but no one cares to notice that I need help, and since no one notices, no one cares either. I just keep sinking and sinking, and it's like it's up to my chest, and I'm about ready to give up, but for some inexplicable reason, I claw my way out a little. And then I start sinking again. I keep asking myself, why do I bother? Why do I try? Why don't I end it all. Boss is right, you know. My days are numbered. Why do I keep trying to prolong my days, when they're so obviously coming to a close. I guess because my instinct for survival has always been my strongest instinct, and because I'm a fucking idiot.

But even when I try to dig my way out, there's always this nagging thought in my head. 'Why do you even try?'

Why do I try? I'm nothing. No one will ever notice if I'm gone. No one would care. I'm in so much trouble and all I want to do is scream and rip my heart out of my chest.

But I'm a coward, and I'm scared of that next unknown.

So, I'm sitting up on top of Everest- alone, like I've always been, and like I was always meant to. I'm trying to catch my breath because I can still feel myself dying. I can't breathe, and I'm still sinking, even from up here. I'm eyeing that next mountain, and thinking about what I can do to climb it once I get down from here.

From Everest.