Sunday, July 4, 2004

Skip this if you don't want to read about my problems.
I've decided not to go on a complete hiatus from posting tonight like I thought I would. I feel sad. I feel a bit lonely. I have people talking to me, and I'm thankful. I know I should be asleep for work, but I think thats becoming less and less important to me as I realise the spiral being stuck in a job has kicked me to.

I don't really care, to be quite fair. It's just a part time job. I could apply myself with exhuberance, I could do my best, and it's just the same result that I would get if I didn't. There is no room for raises after 8.25. I'm looking for a new job. Hell, last shift I worked, I left half an hour early, and didn't even care.

Nobody cared. Jade was there, I wanted to hang out with him. Steven suggested I go with him. Diane knows I'm leaving, I gave my notice. Luke and I are good again.

I cleaned today, but then I made a mess with dishes shortly after. It looks pretty much the same as before.

Some of my friends are depressed, and I'd like to help them. A few people I know have people close to them who are dying, or have died, and it's either hurting them now or resurfacing to do it. I don't know how to deal with death, because I've never had to. I don't know what to do or say. I want to be there for them, so I wouldn't dare tell them how it bothers me to hear it; I don't want to be that selfish, because I love them. They need my friendship, not my apathy. I wish words could solve everyone's troubles, but the world isn't really fair that way.

Time really means nothing to me. It's just a passing demon that takes everything away. I don't remember my childhood, because I blocked most of it out. Most things I don't want to remember. I hate to think anyone's ever depressed like this. I don't know what to do to help, or how to help them.

What can I say? 'I understand' doesn't quite cut it. I don't understand. I'm completely out of the loop. I can't be there for someone who had their girlfriend die from smoke inhalation when they were twelve. I don't know how to answer that. When I was twelve I tried to kill myself because I thought I was alone; I figured nobody wanted me, so I'd just go away. I don't suspect I'm the best role model.

And the scar stays there forever, doesn't it? I'm twenty now, and I did that when I was twelve. I'll always have this stupid scar down my left wrist where the razor slipped. I'll always cringe when people put rubber bands on their wrists. I'll always be scared of razors, and I'll always be nervous when people laugh at that stupid 'down the road not across the street' bullshit.

Just like being raped. Or molested.. or beaten up every day when you're a kid.. just like what my friend (who I shouldn't name) is probably going through with this girl he still loves.

In the same sense, the scar of losing someone you loved never quite goes away. I think.. you always remember. I hardly knew Tiffany, and I'm still sad that she died. I couldn't imagine still loving someone from four years ago; what would that feel like?

I'm a much weaker person than that. I think I'd be dead now if that happened to me. Just gone.

Sometimes I wonder why we are given this capacity, this ability to love or care for people. Is it to stop us from mass suicide, or is it a curse? If people just liked each other, and never felt love, what would be the reprecussion?

I'm very negative right now. Maybe I shouldn't be online anymore tonight. I need to wake up for work in four hours anyways.

Who fucking cares..

//.r.a.y.n.e.//
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