(no subject)
ah. so i am back. back to the world that will not accept me as one who will not find solace. oh well. i feel like death. not the "character", but the noun. i could die right now and thank the one who caused my passing.
why do i love? why do i need to be loved? why do i love the beauty that i cannot have? why does she insist she loves me, tells me there is no way we can be together and then lies next to me kissing/etc all night? is this me being led on? i cant see how or why. but if she really loves me why, then, must she momentarily come back into my life, make the happiest man alive, and then leaves, nothing any closer to being solved. i hurt now more than i did a month ago. and now i am single and in love with the same person. (who is seeing someone else, anyways)
i have a condition. my condition is unconditional. it is love. and it is only for she whom i can not currently have.
i awoke last sunday next to the most beautiful girl who ever lived. an hour later, her mother collected her. i cried for quite some time, until my friend awoke in the room adjacent to mine and came to see what all of the fuss was about. it seems somehow during my pitiful display of tears i had managed to obtain my knife and carve x's and box-like o's into my arm. what a shame. i disgust myself. how can i do these things without consciously consenting to them? a weak bastard is what i am.
the next day i awoke to carving the word hollow into the back of my left hand. this startled me, because i had dreams only of terrible things happening to me and my being unable to shed a tear or feel any emotions, for that matter. i felt hollow...
no excuse to awaken myself with the word half carved into my hand. but why did i continue to carve it?
but, i thought of something...mabe i just want attention. but if that is the case, why do i hide it from my friends and society. the only reason i feel safe telling you this, is the fact that you are a computer and there is not one who will be reading this. i doubt anyone knows i still have this damn journal.
my life is disgusting. and somehow i continue to do it to myself...
why do i love? why do i need to be loved? why do i love the beauty that i cannot have? why does she insist she loves me, tells me there is no way we can be together and then lies next to me kissing/etc all night? is this me being led on? i cant see how or why. but if she really loves me why, then, must she momentarily come back into my life, make the happiest man alive, and then leaves, nothing any closer to being solved. i hurt now more than i did a month ago. and now i am single and in love with the same person. (who is seeing someone else, anyways)
i have a condition. my condition is unconditional. it is love. and it is only for she whom i can not currently have.
i awoke last sunday next to the most beautiful girl who ever lived. an hour later, her mother collected her. i cried for quite some time, until my friend awoke in the room adjacent to mine and came to see what all of the fuss was about. it seems somehow during my pitiful display of tears i had managed to obtain my knife and carve x's and box-like o's into my arm. what a shame. i disgust myself. how can i do these things without consciously consenting to them? a weak bastard is what i am.
the next day i awoke to carving the word hollow into the back of my left hand. this startled me, because i had dreams only of terrible things happening to me and my being unable to shed a tear or feel any emotions, for that matter. i felt hollow...
no excuse to awaken myself with the word half carved into my hand. but why did i continue to carve it?
but, i thought of something...mabe i just want attention. but if that is the case, why do i hide it from my friends and society. the only reason i feel safe telling you this, is the fact that you are a computer and there is not one who will be reading this. i doubt anyone knows i still have this damn journal.
my life is disgusting. and somehow i continue to do it to myself...