Sunday, July 25, 2004

uncomfortable encounters
My ex IM'ed me today, one I had been very close to...because for a long time he was like a brother to me...things were very uncomfortable, because...I still want to be friends with him, but...he's so different now, so very much different towards me then he was. He's so cold and souless, so cruel. And he makes me feel like a used toy. It's...a painful feeling. But, I am use to pain, from everyone I've been with...save for Jesse so far, and priceless few others... and hopefully never again... But...Andrew, Larry, Todd, Dan, Bobby...and so many other disappointments...how can that not make me feel...pessimistic about relationships when something hits me right in the face to remind me? All of them...they treated me so kindly once upon a time, and then the story ended, the mirror shattered. They hate me, and love me at the same time it seems, or enjoy to try and fuck with me...apologize, then turn around to treat me again like a ragdoll. Is that what I am? A ragdoll...because I can so easily mask these emotions?Because I can alternate myself into a being which lacks of these emotions, so I feel no pain? Is that why I am always the one used...the one to vent their cruelty on? I hate what I am now, and what I am becoming...the human psyche is fragile, delicate. And with so many things shattering, picking me apart like this...parents, and people, and stress, and life. The little things that are worthwhile...seem so uncomparable...

I am sorry if I depress anyone, this will all go away soon, they always do...these fleeting moments of thought and of depression, I am so very use to them, so very use to the gruesome things that run through my mind while in this state, that I no longer feel it, and only do I write words that in part I won't recall ever thinking or writing, it is apart of me, this something that I cannot quite think to name.

People...they are corrupt of course, and I am not going to say everyone but me because that is untrue. All are, in one way or another, but blind to their own. I am corrupt...somehow. In a way I do hate...because it sickens me to think of what causes my amusements in certain times...the fact that...others pains...hurt a part of me...because I hate to see others in pain, yet still another side...it lives to watch thesuffering, to cause it. Whether to myself or others...I feel though...this is a normal trait of humanity...we all have it to different extents, just as we all suffer from different disorders to different extents. Yet, everyone has something wrong with them that they may not ever notice in their lifetime. I wish...I could be as ignorant...

I feel tainted and filthy, I taste blood, I feel like drawing something and my blood serve as part of the medium in my art today...

[no...jesse...i did not cut myself, my lip is bleeding, and it's enough to put on a paintbrush, don't worry]
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