im_trying x i'm having a hard time convincing myself that i should only shut myself off for today. it's not that i can't live without him. it's that i despise what this tells me about life. i always used to tell myself "you don't want to die. you just don't want to feel this pain." but i really don't even care anymore. sven and my mom will be very sad for awhile. but in reality, i'm a difficult point in both of their lives. as time goes on they will be better off. i just don't have any reasons anymore. i can do my job, and feel good about it. for 20 years or more. but i need this human connection. ever since i was born, i haven't been able to keep that together. it's always a struggle and i never actually make it. i don't have the kind of genes or wisdom that you'd want producing a kid. so i have no purpose really. it always comes down to my mom. i can't call her. she doesn't know why she wants me to stay. she just knows that she does. i just can't believe (but... i can) that i could give so much and still it becomes completely worthless. i just don't want to be around anything. experience anything. it's not worth anything. 040322 ... nemo im trying.. im trying to drink away the part of the day that i cannot sleep away. polar_opposites 040323 ... x yup, that's what i was thinking of 040324 ... Syrope i discovered cruelty and it solved so many of my problems and now i itch to do it again. to cut away, to carve out the parts i don't like, to leave myself an abstract piece of art, sharp corners and misplaced hollows in the sculpture of my soul then when i see myself in the museum of failures i can be repulsed and think "how did anyone ever find that thing beautiful?" i don't want to hear how sweetly this longing, this pain, pregnant with hope, brings you happiness. you swirl before me, getting ready for the dance, lamenting over the difficult choice of which dress you'll wear, and all i can do is cower, wondering how i'm going to face tomorrow, how i'm going to survive baring myself to the elements. again. so don't ask me for advice on this. don't pretend that it's hurting you. the words i'm holding back are so bitter that they might kill us both, and i'd unleash them only if i could be sure of who would die first. but i can't. so i'll keep trying to swallow while you ask me what's wrong. i don't want your pity, or your condolences, or your indignance. i do have a right to feel this way. to me, the only emotion you're allowed to feel is shame at seeing me this way, at my blatant cries, embarassing you in public like a fitful child, at knowing that you did this, at knowing that you'd do it over again if you had the chance. i hope the gleam of tears on my eyelashes makes you avert your eyes, i hope that the smell of the poisons seeping from my pores makes you nauseous, and i hope that i represent the imperfection in everything you think is so wonderful. if only i could thrive on the anger the way i thrive on the pain 040324 ... Fire&Roses I'm trying... and that is what matters. i'm trying to become the person that he thought I could be... a person he would be proud of. I'm trying to be true to the self I've always held up to his mirror. It's taking time, but bit by bit I'm slicing away the brown spots and Maybe someday I will stand tall and proud before him, but until then... I'm trying. 040324 ... just listening when someone is nasty to you it is _so_ hard not to be nasty back 080326 what's it to you? who go blather from