love is all there is... | |
10:00 p.m. || 2002-10-08 | Welcome to my thoughts. I had a rather long introduction here, but I cut it down a bit because, frankly, some of it was just plane hokey. What I will say is this: Some of what you find here may be graphic. I speak of drugs, of different issues with eating and weight, and whatever the hell else pops into my mind, and it isn't always in a meek or polite manner. This diary is for *me* to communicate and explore my thoughts and feelings and experiences. If something I write offends you, please feel free to not read it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy my various ramblings and tired attempts at writing.
Now for a little about me, a bit more personal information. I am 23 going on 90, going on 12. I live with my mother. I just moved back in here a little over a year ago, after living in the streets where I ran wild for near six years. I was a drug addict. I have done some seriously sick things in order to live, of which I will not speak just yet. Perhaps, in time, as I learn to live with and accept my past I may try to explore those twisted little parts of me. I go to college and make fairly decent grades. I have no friends there. I wander through life alone, sad, lost in some dramatic play in my head. I am a dreamy sort, though you would never know that from meeting me. I can be very loud, very rude, and very inconsiderate. I can be the sweetest girl in the world; I am more often than not someone that you probably could not stand. I refuse to admit I need help, and I despise the weakness I see in myself. I am mixed up, lost, and I stumble alot. I have not yet fallen, yet I am often on the brink. Much that is written here is reality, and some is merely a very real fantasy. Often it is hard to tell the difference; Often I do not care to try and seperate one from the other. I have a cat. She is my best friend and the only *person* I truly trust. Her name is Mist Spryte. I love her more than I love anyone or anything on this earth or beyond. I think sometimes that perhaps she is my own gaurdian angel, yet could one such as I get so lucky? I am antisocial, paranoid, and angry. I am forever on the verge of tears, yet never able to cry (nor would I, if I could.) I love to write, yet never can say what I mean. Men disgust me, for the most part. I do not want love, or to be loved. I can not stand to be touched. Not even by a friend. For all of my life I have been tought over and over by men that I am just a cunt to fuck, and nothing more. Occasionally by women as well. Alas, this is all behind me and I am getting off topic, about who I am. I am a girl who loves life and hates it. I want to live and to die at the same time. I want to hurt, myself and others, and I want to help as much as hurt. This is me. Take it or leave it. I am not pleasant, or particularly pretty, or quaint. My manners are terrible at best, and I have no real sense of my own style (not in the fashion sense). My journaling is a bit of a discovery mission. The mission of girl who hates herself more than she loves herself, and who never thought she would make it this far. A girl who should be dead and is not. A girl who hates men, and sex, and love; who has no family that is real and doesn't want one. One more thing: If you stop by to read, please sign my guestbook. Often the presence of others can be awesomely comforting. It would mean the world to me. And so, with that small plea and a bit of fear, I bid you enter. Welcome to the frenzy of my life. ~Aorist ~~For reference, most older entries have been archived to clear up my older entries page. If you'd like to see these, please email me. ~~ . |