Saturday, April 23
it feels stupid to be online, staring at swirls moving across the screen of the windows media player. so i'm appearing offline. hooray now you know my secret. actually i'm just appearing offline. yeah. cos it feels like i can't talk to you. or anyone. and i'm holding back. cos i don't know how much to say. since it's all rubbish. yeah i'm bullshitting. chris called. from australia. we talked for 1 1/2 hours. i hope her bill doesn't die. chris: love you and miss you and wish you were here but we don't know when you're coming back, if ever. this sucks. she mentioned perspectives. i should be like her and go for some mission trip and see how priviliged i really am and all that. instead of dwelling on stupid useless minor details like feelings. gosh. feelings. what are they? they don't matter. they don't feed the hungry and clothe the poor. feelings are just bullshit. which is why i'm not talking to anyone. cos i'm just bullshitting about - bullshit. i'm scared we have nothing to talk about, so i'll appear offline.. so you don't have that option. i'd rather imagine we aren't talking cos you can't msg me online.. than know either of us could start talking but end up with nothing to say.
there's the blackhole of the earth, but there's also the blackhole of the heart.
if i don't get out of this bullshitting mood soon i have to kill myself. i mean it. how come you can't wake yourself up with slapping?
ally: you wrote a poem about cutting. guess what. i don't think you really know what it's about. try asking someone who does.. it's quite different.. sure, it's an art.. but frankly, drawing pictures on your skin with blood.. is like dabbling with the devil.
it must've been love.
11:20 pm
xoxo
