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:: 2005 21 January :: 12.12am

& i can envision us having this same goddamn arguement, and he becomes less tolerent with each iteration. i'm afraid, i'm afraid, i'm afraid, and he's endlessly pissed off at me for it.

i mean. i can understand why but.
well, fuck. no buts.
no excuses.

sab just choking the life out of me again. i'll be fine.

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 20 January :: 10.51pm

what am i doing and why? i think i'm leading this guy on . . . no, i know i am. halff-assed excuses about internet porn not meaning anything are so lame and i know it.

& retardedly, the only reason i'm doing it is because i can't get ahold of jim and i'm lonely.

i sicken myself, often and in a wide variety of new and exciting ways.

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 18 January :: 5.39am

he says, i really ought to fantasize about you. i say, what clever bullshit.
don't ever force yourself because of me.
don't ever hold back because of me.
don't ever deny because of me.
don't ever. anything. because of me.
and he says, i will grow to love you. and i say, don't hold your breath.

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 17 January :: 8.50pm

as long as we're throwing songs around -- as lovers go, dashboard confessional. something about inferiority.

it's really sad how long i could just watch him be.

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 17 January :: 6.07pm

trying to let go of all my old obsessions. funny how the one lets the other melt away. & jim? i dunno. something about eating apples under a tree.


.come get your knife.


:: 2005 16 January :: 6.30pm

i turn you are a perfect drug offto try to regain some emotional stability
and it comes up with head over feet

knowing what the problem is re:corwin doesn't make it automatically go away
starting to deal.
still pretty messed up, though. it's been a long fucking day and all i want to is to fall asleep in jim's arms . . . closest i get is a fucking webcam and text message.
hff. good as it'll get. for now if not for ever.

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 16 January :: 8.26am

The Beatles --- In My Life.


.come get your knife.


:: 2005 14 January :: 1.19am

you know. i never thought it'd bother me.
i never thought i would be so
but then i realized why
[i guess i always figured i'd be on top]
sucks being second. third. whatever.
it just sucks.
what the hell am i doing to myself?

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 14 January :: 12.37am

"McCormic's Vodka is the taste
of my love life falling apart"

someone else's words. someone else's world.
hits like a cement mixer, even so.

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 12 January :: 9.50pm

it really did sound like it was about me.
but it never was, really. i can do nothing to or for. alas alas.
it's all just denoum[i can't spell it. the story's over, i mean. this is epilogue. i'm hanging on to what no longer exists.]
the part that hurts the most [sometimes. others at other times. whatever]
is the whole "life goes on" thing. i can't tell him to sod off. not strong enough for that. so he'll keep calling me every other day or so. and i'll keep falling into this fucking spiral. again and again and again
i really fucking hate being in love
i just want to be loved back for once
fuck it fuck it fuck it.

i don't cry, per se. but this is breaking me in two. as it always has been. and as it always will.
"give it a year," i keep telling myself, and i will in theory be over him.
just like i got over corwin.
just like i got over alicia.
just like i can't get over anything at all.

even if i never talk to him again. if one or other of us drops off the face of the earth. he'll still be there. back of my mind, memories, imaginary voices. dreams. still there.
and in a year i can learn to choke it down.
and in a year i can learn to accept my defeat.
and in a year i can be. "over." him.
99% of the time.
i'm losing by attrition.
my whole world is falling in love with you.

i'd thought i had it this time, you know? someone i could trust. with everything.
& he's fucking me over just as wonderfully as they both did. he doesn't mean to, no one does. but still.
"cock it", i'm bitter. & stupid. & & &.
fool-child. shhh.

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 6 January :: 6.26am

it's the simple things that are so hard to grasp
can't find myself in all these days that pass
but i can feel it when it shines
nevermind the way they shy
turning around along the trail
my whole world is falling in love with you

. . . It's rather one-sided, isn't it? I guess I never expected anything else, even if I wanted it. You keep saying that I deserve more, but I don't. None of us do. We get what we get, deserving or otherwise, and even if we never recover from this I'm glad that I found you. Even if everything else is shit and chasing lost dreams I'll still remember those moments when I was happier than I ever knew possible.

I love you, and it's possible that you have no idea what that entails. I could never knowingly cause you harm, but my blindness may end up doing it for me. You've saved me from myself, and damned me to walk in your shadow forever because of it. I'll never forget you.

So much fell into place in the airport in Sacramento. I gained resolve, gained resolutions, lost faith, let go. I don't know if I'll ever actually see you again, but I can promise if I do that I won't hold back. I gain nothing and lose everything by trying to push you away. I can never ask that you trust me, I can only trust you and hope for the future, if there is one.

Anonymous love letter.

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 5 January :: 10.11pm


it's still the same, that wierd thrill. reading corwin's entries. that almost-pain. that something that comes up and then i shove it down just as quickly. i don't know.
when will i ever get over this. i mean, obviously something is lacking . . . something is undone. i never did tell him how badly it hurt. how pissed off i was. how bad i was doing. whether it was as a result of his actions or not . . . he made it worse. so much fucking worse. confirmed all of my suspicions & paranoia. i still can't believe it. ever. when [jim] says he loves me.
maybe he hasn't been showing it, true.
i know i hurt him. wish i hadn't. he says he doesn't want to let people in. they'll hurt him. and i can't say that it's a bad solution. i've been trying to do the same thing. and i know it's better than the alternative. but.
sitting here on the other side of it, i have to say, it hurts.
i can go 90% but i need you to come the other ten, jim. just open up to me a little. eventually. please.
i'm not asking you to feel the way that you did, you can't, neither of us can. but i'm about to make myself as exposed to you as i can be. trying to make this fucked-up excuse for a relationship work. and it doesn't work if you're just going to be a fucking slab of rock at me.
hff. you say you'll be able to trust me eventually. i'm not sure you understood the question.
& even if it's not me, you need to open up to someone, sometime.
[maybe i'm misinterpreting the whole issue.
maybe he already has.
maybe he can succeed where i have failed.
maybe he's simply not as weak as i am.]
gzzzzzzzh. i want nothing more in the world than for you to find that perfect joy. i fear, however, that that ship has sailed for you. with one or the other.
hrm. then again, never underestimate the future. i'm convinced for my own sake that she's out there somewhere . . .
[& selfishly hoping that she's me. har.]

i kind of really hate it when i make entries in second person like this.

.come get your knife.


:: 2005 2 January :: 11.19pm

Who or what and more importantly why . . .

Every time I get a hand-hold on this she comes back with something <newOLD to swing at me. It's harder it's faster it's heavier and it seems to be getting harder to recover from [just in the past couple days. sure it'll smeg off eventually. emoemoemo]

sick of complaining --

Jim said, "You're completely terrified that I'm going to up and leave you at any second," to which I nodded vigorously, "and it's affecting the relationship."

[without a pause to wonder, don't be silly -- wait. we actually have a relationship? when did you decide this? not that i'm complaining, mind you . . .]

"Give me one fucking reason why you wouldn't!"

"Because I don't do that kind of shit."

Fine, but I'm still choking on my own shit. I'm sick of it, naturally -- who wouldn't be? -- but it's so ingrained in me. I'm not entirely sure that I want to give it up.

I'm afraid of pain to a ridiculous degree. The stupid part is, I know I could block it out pretty easily if I ever put my mind to it. I don't know if it was the alchohol or the state of mind or both, but I can shut down the physical side of myself with an eerie ease. He said he would have broken my arm if I bit him again -- fuck it, we were both drunk, right? Apparently it brings out our hidden monsters. -- and in retrospect, were I not owned by the government, I would so love to push it. See how far he would go [I'm sure that he would go all the way. He's training himself to become a weapon, right? And "Richard" doesn't care any more than effigy does.] how much I could take.

Well, no. I'm a fucking coward. Even as effigy. A fucking coward.

I could never hurt him, I realize. I know I need that at this point, I know he's the only thing keeping me alive and he'll be what pulls me out of this hole -- if anything does.

He's more mature at 19 than I probably will be at fifty. When he's fifty, he'll be a fucking master. I'll be lucky if I make to fifty. Shit, I'll be lucky if I make it to thirty. You're supposed to get over this stage in your life where you thing suicide is an option by the time you graduate high school, right. I rather haven't. Which leads me to the realization that it's going to be with me forever. She is going to be with me forever. However long that forever may be.

She says repeatedly that he doesn't give a shit, no one will, no one can. A laundry list of reasons why they can't, why I'm not worth it, etc. etc. I can't help but wonder if it's all just an excuse for her to die again. And make it last. She wants nothing else. I wish I could give it to her. But I need her.

I don't need her.

I need her.

I don't know. Ecch.

If I have someone to be strong for, I can. If I have someone to protect, I could probably take an insane amount of damage for their sake. Jim is entirely self-sufficient. He's a fucking stone piller. I can cling to it but I can contribute nothing. In the end, he's almost as crippling as she is.

.come get your knife.


:: 2004 22 December :: 7.02pm

because she's safe.
because she'll never know.
because she's more fucked up than i am, and i need that right now.

.come get your knife.


:: 2004 19 December :: 6.52pm

It's like driving along those winding mountain roads. It always scared the shit out of me.

Yeah, I'm in control. But there's still the possibility, the chance of going over. And if you go over, all is lost. You die. The End.

I don't trust myself with that much responsibility. "Are you going to cheat on me," he asks, and I don't fucking know. No, no, fuck no, I say, a knee-jerk reaction, but I can't fucking tell. Her words echo in a way that drops the floor from under my feet: You're too goddamn retarded not to. I'm a fuck-up. I'm a tremendous fuck-up and I know it and this is the most important thing that ever was [to me] and I don't trust myself with it.

And all I want to do is lie in his arms until it all goes away. He makes me feel so safe. Like nothing else matters. [What a fucking cliche. I sicken myself.]

He doesn't and I think won't ever understand her effect on me. I don't know what'll happen if I fall into a rage directed at him. I fear I might hurt him. Physically, emotionally, I don't know how. I fear, undirected.

& selfish little prick that I am, I worry more that he'll realize he doesn't have to take it anymore than that I might do actual damage. Well, no. I'm pretty sure I can't hurt him that bad, I guess. Certainly no more so than Pam. So it all comes down to his willingness to take my shit, how honest about myself I can be around him, if I'll ever know where the line is or that I've crossed it until it's too late.

I mean. This is the normal shit people worry about in relationships. I'm just a coward, crippled by it.

He asks, will I cheat on him. I don't know. Sex means so little to me. I can't get around that. Even with him, it's nothing special. I derive more joy from falling asleep next to him than fucking him. I keep thinking back to fucking random friends for no good reason, asking myself why why why, what what going through my head . . . I can't. Bring myself to care about it. And that scares me, because I fail to realize the risks.

He asks, were you even attracted to him, and I say, yeah, sort of. I guess. It's wierd. I have no basis for it. Yeah, I'll fuck my friends . . . they're my friends. I don't care in the least about it, why should they? I fail at human understanding. I fail at empathy. Dan did an insanely good job of hiding his feelings for me, and I did an insanely good job of killing mine for him. And in the end despite everything that Sab has said, it just ended up screwing us both over. We may never recover.

Lost trust, lost love. I am not virgin territory. Why does he even stick around.

I'm not monogamous, I don't understand monogamy, I don't understand jealousy, I don't understand "making love," I am not

[what he needs. or even wants.]



I am

[kivarth pukkukku. antuoth pukkukku. akh pukkuk!
Translation: Fucking idiot. And she slams me against the wall, hiss-grinning for what we both know is true. Defective. Inhuman. Wrongwrongwrong.]


The part that bothers me most is that, aside from the lack, I can feel nothing wrong with it. It is how I was made. I cannot be any other way.

Unfortunately several of my modules seem to be mutually incompatible. The conflict must be resolved or I will lose my life.

1 .bloody kiss | .come get your knife.


:: 2004 19 December :: 6.24pm

I hate what this journal has become, actually . . .

.come get your knife.


:: 2004 16 December :: 11.09pm


thank you thank you fucking thank you. you have no idea how much this one stupid thing means. thank you. for everything.

tears almost, but the good kind. it flows in me like reverse drowning.

.come get your knife.


:: 2004 12 December :: 12.37pm

Hah. Hah. And the funny/stupid part is, if I'd just checked my bloody e-mail, I'd have something to do for the evening.

Um, god. I feel so fucking isolated here. No car, nowhere to walk [no bloody sidewalks!] No one I can relate to. No one I can call. Jim's usually working or whatever . . . Shi I have always refused to use as a pick-me-up . . . even though she is . . . miss being able to call Dan and demand that he come spend time with me when I was twitchy. It was good, just having somebody there. Random goddamn conversations about fantasy serieses and whatever.

I dunno. I mean maybe. Eventually. An rp group I've seen all of once is closer to friends than the guys I spend twelve hours a day with four days a week? With the people who live in the same building that I do? Well, shit. Sorry. I'm realizing that I really cannot get along with anyone who isn't at least a half-breed nerd. And none of these people would know Thac0 if it bit them in the ass.

Poo. Pitypartypityparty.

.come get your knife.


:: 2004 2 December :: 7.30pm

And always this hope in the back of my mind. That if I can just be good enough to matter. If I can be strong enough, beautiful enough, fragile enough, perfect enough, I'll matter. And when I say matter. I mean.

Well, you know.

But I'm a fool for believing it. I can never add up to any of them.

.come get your knife.


:: 2004 2 December :: 3.32pm

the adrenaline hits and she coughs for a few instants, bleeding off the energy until i can think again. hissing rasping breath and my arms feel like they're made of molten lead.

i make a noise, and she leaps across the room to bury my face in cement. her mouth is open, but there are no words, no reason for the words. we both know my mistake, she simply growls out her frustration and leaves me to soak into the floor.

it hits, again and again and again, for as long as i'll let it. always this. knowledge. backhand to the fucking face, but not from her, no, from the idea itself. it does more damage than she ever would.

her screams are mine. her arms around my neck are comforting. the walls shake as i collapse in a corner, and she just paces, on fire on fire on fire.

finally, the words that we all knew were coming.

never trust again. never. never fall again. never allow yourself to be used like that. never be their . . . she drops the hand, sighing. a look a question. just. please. stop doing this to us?

i'll try. i'll try and i'll fail and it will destroy me in the end. but i've got to try. in the end, being heartless would not be so bad, when it's compared to this.

.come get your knife.

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