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this is not fun anymore. i hate me, and other people. i hate my body, i am in pain - and i want it to stop.

Lunatics.

Used for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. I refuse to use familiar, personal terms.

I am bitter person, I have been sculpted this way.

Eraser.

Mirror's only see who I am. They see under my skin.
I am the conductor of my own fleeting mortality.

Spheres.

I need to get out of here, out of this life. Nothing good ever comes out of my surroundings, after all my trying - I just feel worse now. On review of these writings, from the beginnings to now, I can see I have been through so many different stages, many different situations. However, these instances all have one connection - I have been discarded and left out at all times, in one way or another.

I have come to decide that even though I don't like being cold on the outside, it is where I belong. For so long I thought the answer to all my problems would be getting away and starting fresh, but this will only lead me to the same situation, and the same dissapointment. The air is clouded with noise now.

"Stay a Way Every Body is sick with the Flue. - Velda Bartlett" - Caril Ann Fugate.

Distant lights.

I will destroy myself,
my skin will be coated in a warm arterial spray.

I have achieved this state of rotation once again; full circle. Forget these people, forget these places - No happiness will ever come from any of this.

I want to stop.

Cruel whole.

He loves the feeling, not her.
I can see now, more than ever, that lust can rob us of our senses. As you venture outwards, she sits and cries.

Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say,
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.

-- William Shakespeare, "Romeo and Juliet".

Age is a disgusting thing. Young and old. Ignorance matures into perversion.

Reprise.

I'm not sure if I am angry with myself. I am unsure if I like this familiar feeling; this state of mind, or am repulsed by it. But, it is here.