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Monday, March 16, 2009

thnks fr th mmrs

Well that was a traumatic phone call.

I don't want to even think about half of that conversation ever again.

I'm so uncomfortable with talking about certain things.

Although I suppose, everyone has their "taboo" topics.

But, shit.

I wasn't doing so great before that conversation and now I'm somewhat worse.

It was just uncomfortable and delved into stuff I do not ever want to talk about, and other stuff that I'm not ready to talk about yet. At least while sober.

And really, with all the shit that's happened every time, I should stop fucking drinking.

But I won't. Why?

I'm stupid.

I don't know why!

I need to attempt some homework. Caffeine dosage upcoming.

Only thing I can say is that I'm so grateful for seeing Justin on Sunday evening at church. That makes everything better. And I can't wait till we hang out.

I'm so sick of having no one to talk to about serious shit. I'm so sick of people not letting me know what I'm doing is stupid, in a nice way where I'll actually take it on board. I'm really, really over being stuck with myself constantly and having to carry this stuff around.

I hate the flashbacks of memory. Any memory. Every memory. And then especially those memories. I want to remove them. Anyone know if there's a delete button?

I may even start almost completely over. I don't want to keep remembering what I did, with this different, normal perspective. How I usually look at the world. I want to forget.

I'd forget you, and you, and you and you and you, and that night, and that night, and that time;

I'd definitely forget that. Was it my fault, or yours? A bit of both, I'd say. I wish I could say it was yours entirely. I really do. I lost much of my slowly building self respect there. And I wish that someone could say it wasn't my fault and that such a statement would be true. I wish that I could take it back take it back back back.

I hatehatehate that I did that. I hate how I'll never have a second chance. Nothing can change that.

(Although, I'll admit, if it would have fixed things with my friends in some crazy way, I'd do the same thing again. A thousand times over, not that it's quite possible. But as close as I could get.)

And as for you, well, I think I'd keep those memories. I don't want to forget that, forget you, or what you meant; or how special that was. I wouldn't forget you either, or you. Or you. I'd keep those memories, bittersweet as they are except for those with the last one of you.

Everything else, I think I would forget.

I've never been so full of regrets.

UPDATE (1:43AM) - And if I had the energy or the desire to try to protect myself, I'd be curled in a ball with my arms around my head. But how does one fight when the enemy is already inside?

The more I try to stop it, the faster the images come, flashes here and gone; in a cycle that can't stop, won't stop. And each time it's worse.

And I'd give myself to you in any way possible so that I exist no longer as my own self, but rather something for someone else. How do I explain that concept? If I was no longer a physical being, but rather, just a presence, something like a spirit who just filled the gaps in those who needed it and who I once loved; that would be easier. The responsibility of living sometimes feels like too much (that's now).

I don't want to be freefalling, I'd rather be drifting, emotionless.

I'll put my life on hold permanently; do you see it up on that shelf? Till I'm more faded than the words that I once wrote; I'll love you always, forever.

I'm barely aware of what I'm saying, can you tell?

Living takes an effort that sometimes I can't find, and I'm scrawling down these senseless words hoping that somehow I'll find my mind.

Wow, that rhymed.

EDIT (2.16AM): All I want right now is a coffee I can drown my thoughts in.

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