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ok ok ok ok

i feel like i'm running into walls again. no. i dont feel that way. i just feel sad. champsy threw up 3 times and i dont feel like dealing. i dont feel like responding. i just feel so cold.

its so cold outside.

i fucked this dude the other night and it was fun, i did need to get laid, but i didnt want it to be slutsville. i just remember ben cho saying that once he has an orgasm, he's out. its a guy thing. i didnt want to give it up like that.

i'm tired and sad about so many things. i dont really care about this nerve dude at all. i dont care about anything. its so fucking boring and stupid and i know it will pass so i dont even care to be writing about it.

i wish i had more ideas to pitch to vice. once again, i wish i were a superhero. or knew how to do magic. i would make things disappear. or reappear. or just fucking appear. i used to mold myself after what a particular person was looking for. rock n roll girl, coke on my tits and bjs in the bathroom? cool. book smarts and renting movies? cool. and everything inbetween. i thought i could be everyone, everyone else but what i really wanted to be because it was so important to get that one person to love me 4ever. but i cant do that anymore. i dont want to either, its too tiring and its fucking lame. but here i am, typing away my misery. so which is better?

no no, i know. this isn't how i feel always. just right now. and right now i wanna control something that i cant. i'm letting it kill me and its not cool its not cool its not cool. i dont know what i want really, and that kills me more than anyone will ever know.

9:01 p.m. - 2003-02-12

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