(no subject)

May 17, 2004 21:16

oh, am i addicted to emotionally torturing myself. i keep trying to write something that comes close to honesty, but i just can't do it. secrets keep building up, and i don't even know if they are that worthwhile. ironic that i used to dare myself to say everything on the internet, to announce how many people i'd slept with and who i hated. i guess that at the time, it was more on my own terms. i'm still a little freaked out that people around this city, some whom i don't know, have copies of my zine. out of my control in the same way.

i'm so tired of everyone having their ghosts.

a month or so ago i flipped through my high school journals. in elementary school i became very dilligent about documenting my life, and i maintained that until i started falling in love and having people to explain things to. i discovered that i was a lot more eloquent in eleventh grade than i am now, which is seriously pathetic. i'm trying to revive this art, but i'm doing a very poor job.

i am sick and alone and listening to a brazilian dude because i couldn't find my copy of "friends." solitude is super rare, and i keep abusing it.

i am going to start a website hopefully within the next few months. if you make crafts and preferably live in the san francisco bay area, please let me know if you are interest in taking part and having your wares sold.
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