122ed. st.
I think I told everyone everything I'm ashamed of. Thing about curses is, stay here long enough, and you'll be hit every which way. I don't know. Shit. I mean...
I still get really fucking depressed like I used to when I first got here, but I've gotten better at hiding it to where I don't even think of it anymore. I know someone's gotta think I'm cheerful or something because that's what I sound like, right? But Dr Rat says that's me pretending everything's normal, and... it is. Morgan said I pitied myself, and I don't know if I do... if you couldn't go outside, would you pity yourself? I guess I do.
With the exception of the few months when Lace was here, I haven't had sex at all since I've been here. I have this welt-- at this point, it's more of a scar-- around my wrist, because whenever I have a sexual thought, I snap the stupid thing to get a bad association in my mind. I'm Pavlov's fucking dog, except that the rubber band thing doesn't work at all, I just do it out of habit.
I do go outside, at night, once a month to get groceries, but it's only physical hacking; my feet never touch the ground. I'm twenty-seven, even though I look nineteen.
...And my name isn't short for anything. It's just 'Cal'.
Fuck, did I say I really hate this place, yet?
I still get really fucking depressed like I used to when I first got here, but I've gotten better at hiding it to where I don't even think of it anymore. I know someone's gotta think I'm cheerful or something because that's what I sound like, right? But Dr Rat says that's me pretending everything's normal, and... it is. Morgan said I pitied myself, and I don't know if I do... if you couldn't go outside, would you pity yourself? I guess I do.
With the exception of the few months when Lace was here, I haven't had sex at all since I've been here. I have this welt-- at this point, it's more of a scar-- around my wrist, because whenever I have a sexual thought, I snap the stupid thing to get a bad association in my mind. I'm Pavlov's fucking dog, except that the rubber band thing doesn't work at all, I just do it out of habit.
I do go outside, at night, once a month to get groceries, but it's only physical hacking; my feet never touch the ground. I'm twenty-seven, even though I look nineteen.
...And my name isn't short for anything. It's just 'Cal'.
Fuck, did I say I really hate this place, yet?