2005-03-15, 4:07 p.m.,

Everytime we speak she asks how I'm going. What I want to say is that this is the best fucking time I've had in my whole life.

What I want to say is that I can't trust a word from anyone's mouth because everyone has a version of what's been seen or heard and every "has my best interests at heart"

What i say comes back in a huge loop. The vault right? The vault with the combination everyone knows. So I'm going silent. I'm disappearing because clearly this life I've been living wasn't meant to exist. It was all dreamt up by a girl who wanted it so badly she convinced herself it was real. and everyone played along, because who wants to be themonster to break her heart?

Because the real world wasn't good enough, I invented my own. And my imagined world was far more beautiful than the real world will ever be.

Because in the real world everybody wants to believe it when someone says they love you. And in imagined world, they do.

How am I?

I'm dying the slowest death possible by isolation. You can say that it's self inflicted, but show me someone willing to do something about it and not have another agenda....not have more concern for their own situations and are really just checking in because she told them to or because they need to at least look like they tried.

Go on, ask me how I am. When I say that I'm dying......Tell me what you're going to do about it.


Then don't ask.

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- - 2007-06-08
My absenteeism - 2007-05-24
Defining Yourself - 2007-03-19
odd sort of flatness - 2007-03-06
Welcome Home - 2007-02-27


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