You And Me, What Does That Mean?
Previous - this entry written on January 18, 2003 at 8:52 pm - Next


So if I wanted, this would be a huge long rant. It would fill several pages and be written over quite a bit of time, because I've only been online for a few minutes and already staring at the screen, and sitting upright in a position to make typing easy are combining to give me a hellish headache and to set my stomach on edge. But this could, you see, be a huge entry. There's a lot I want to say, apologies and angry mutterings and insults and confused questions and even a few "I miss you" sort of statements that I'm sure you're all sick of. Instead of that, I'm going to keep this short.

I'm going to Rocky.

If I don't get a ride back to Beaverton somehow from Gresham, I'm going to be stuck out here for at least a night, prob'ly longer.

I am trying VERY hard to fight off what is officially the strongest round of depression I've fallen into since some point in November.

Facade - we need to talk.

There's not much else I can cram into this and still have it even remotely resemble a short entry. Perhaps it won't matter. Perhaps nothing matters - yes, it's THAT kind of depression, and I have not figured out what's triggering it or how to avoid it, although I WOULD like to say once again that although I respect everyone's right to choose, I do NOT respect anyone's right to insult, berate, or otherwise badger me about MY choices. *sighs* Do I have to say fuck off again?

And "Christiansands" is still high on my playlist.

Human? No, I don't think you'll ever be human.

I don't forget easily and I don't give up anything I truly want.

Catfood. Still f'ing catfood, and stay the hell away from my deities. Yes, that includes the one you live with.

There's not enough alcohol in the WORLD for that to happen.

Fuck off. Yes, you. FUCK OFF. I don't care why you felt you had to insult me, but all it does is annoy me, so bugger off and go annoy someone else now, k?

She's about to go mad from hiding for so long, and frankly, I'm about to stop caring if she does. I'm not patient.

Patience may be a virtue... doesn't mean I'm going to even TRY to cling to it for you.

Love is still a four-letter word. And it just keeps hurting more and more. Stupid depression.

No, none of the above were addressed to the same person. It's a long list.

This is now long enough.

I'm going to go hurt for a while. Not for him. Not for them. Not for me, certainly. Not for ANYONE, and that's a large part of what sucks so much about this.

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