Boobies

I think that writing in a journal will help me out. But, I'd rather write in one of my leather bound journals for shit like this. I dunno...A part of me is sentimental and believes that paper and pen are the ways to go. Maybe a part of me is thinking that I don't have enough time anymore to crack open my journal and write a few sentences down. The curse of the technological age. It's faster and just...easier. Shit...maybe a part of me thinks that it helps to tell this sort of shit to a stranger, even though I know no one is reading this. Just the intrawebs...

I miss Shakespeare. I...wonder what will happen between us when he comes home. I know I want to ask him...if he really loved/loves me and isn't just bullshitting me. I dunno. Maybe I should just leave well enough alone. But then again...he and I always said that our paths would cross again.

He said he always thought I was smarter than he was and that I reminded him a lot of himself.

I wonder if he ever felt like this. Like...like he'd always be alone. Not feeling like you were in the right place or the right time.

I wonder if he was so hurt that he just...couldn't do it anymore. That he gave up.

Another part of me just doesn't care. Go figure.

Terribly...

I feel terribly unmotivated. At this moment, I would usually be chomping at the bit to do homework and be studious and crap. But right now...eh. I think it's because I'm feeling awfully diabetic.

Ohh...procrastination...I've missed you, my old friend.

Omg...

I want to have sex with Hugh Laurie so much. I dream of it. I want him to pull my hair, slap my ass and call me a dirty slut. Yeah. He's nearly triple my age. What of it? I will have that man. One day. One dirty dirty day.

Will this ever end?

I hate him. But, I don't know how I can move on.

I'm thinking about pooping...

Sometimes I feel that life is kinda okay. But other times I feel so lonely I want to die. Sadly, I'm usually in a good mood when I talk to my therapist...so I kind of wonder when I'm gonna get better with him. Still not ready to "open up." I find it strange talking about my deepest thoughts and fears with some stranger. Meh...

Everyone has a significant other and it kind of blows ballsacs. I used to be in a relationship...and it used to be okay. Now we're really not even friends anymore. I'm trying to decide if I even like him as a person. I hate him for that.

He's also the reason why I'm going to therapy.

I hate him for that, too.

I used to have another blog on this stupid site...

But I couldn't sign into it because of some Google bullshit.

Whatever.

I'm depressed. I've thought about killing myself so many times. I thought about it at least three times today. A little while ago I thought about just downing a bunch of my Cymbalta. But then I thought that I don't want to start vomiting or experience that pain. So, I didn't do it. Then I thought about going to the emergency room like I promised my psychiatrist I would if I felt suicidal again. But, I thought ehhhh...it's late...I don't want to wake mom up.

I hate Dan. I'm in love with him but I hate him. He's so stupid and I feel that he has had a huge hand in making me this depressed lately. Which he has. He's not the sole reason why I'm all blue. But he's a big reason why I'm depressed now.

He was a shitty boyfriend. He was a shitty friend. He's still a shitty friend despite the fact that he claims he wants to be my friend. It's not fair that he gets to go out...with MY old friends...and get completely drunk and have a "crazy fun time" while I have to sit all by myself on Friday night with NO ONE.

I hate break ups. I hate Dan. I am alone. I want to die. I hate my life.

I wish I could move to California and never return.

Bah. Whatever. More to come later.