its nights like this where I feel like I am slipping into something crazier and crazier. The clock isnt reading a physically possible time. Everything falls apart. I wish I could lie in the grass and become engulfed in the plants and be taken back into the earth. My day is going to be hell. I cant sleep, I hurt. I also want to get a new outfit to wear to Ohio, I want to go somewhere exotic, I want to slice my forearms open and play with my blood. I want to be done with feeling like a sex object. I'm sure someone outside of my family, somewhere, somehow likes me for reasons transcending anything sexual, but I would like quite a few of you to step back and reexamine our relationship. If it werent for sexual stuff, how much more or less would you care about me? How much of myself can I pour into an individual if i get to watch those same grains of myself fall right through the sieve in their eyes? Meaningless, nothingless... yes strangely familiar. I shouldnt be surprised; the thorns have been in my side for months but the stinging burning pain is unrelenting. There are men, there are women, there is me. My head alone is another entry to write about. I'll stick to one man, and one woman.

One woman though in particular- shes smooth, understanding, demure- and a total fucking tease. Ive liked her for two goddamn years and I am as of yet to do more than waste a few hundred dollars courting her. I want to say sorry to her. Sorry I thought youd ever sincerely turn to me. Sorry for trying to listen to you whenever you were rambling about a life you lead that will never include me. Sorry for the things I did say and sorry for responding to your smooth, goddess-like hand sliding up my thigh. Sorry for rolling around laughing in the grass with you at that concert. Sorry for never caring that we were openly gay in public. Sorry you make me secure enough to want to publicly display my emotions for you. I cant blame you. Youre not human to me any more. I'm sorry, I dont know what to do with you. Find another girlfriend with a wacky hairstyle and a quirky life. I'm sorry my bed is no longer for you.

There is one man too. Worship me. Love me. Look into my eyes when we talk. Like we used to. Carve out a piece of this world I barely understand and tell me what to do, or don't, but hold my hand as I stumble around and make the best of it. Fuck pride. Fuck all that stuff.

The most disturbing thing about that last paragraph is I have no idea who its aimed at. I dont know myself anymore. I want to get away, to run away, to just get away for now. God, please.

Let me get away please
Please