i cannot focus on anything, my head hurts an dmy eyes feel as though they would sincerely prefer to remain out of focus.

everything that touches my skin is somehow not there

maybe i am becoming like you.

cold numb detached
nothing but a mass of twitching nerves that are not connected and detached from the center of you

i envy you for that

for not feeling, or for not knowing what you feel. For notknowing it is pain, for not quite knowing what any emotion is, happiness, love, sadness

i think you could feel something for me if you could know you were feeling it . . . it is probably just silly optimism talking

if you have never really felt that way toward anyone, what in the hell made me think i coul dbe the exception, i knew better, i knew that there was no prerequsite. what sort of fucking gall did it take to think that i was somehow special?

It is some horrible habit i have, thinking i am improtant or special or intelligent or anythin gother than ordinary and simple and ugly and slow and fat. . .

i shouldnt be writing this, at all. because i will hurl myself headlong into self pity with no where to turn

ill stop now . . . not that it will make a difference