You gave me hyacinths first a year ago. They called me the hyacinth girl.

righty right right.

(nerves markedly better today, dread has been supplanted by the much more reasonable and self-directed haze of no self-reliance, nonexistant self-esteem and a completely shattered sense of others in how they relate to me...all of which may very well regenerate if tended to, like a lacerated tongue. or perhaps this is all part of a grand design - think of all the poor souls who are spared by my cutting off all confident interaction with them!

there is no more outward spite - thank my frontal lobes for COM-PART-MEN-TA-LI-ZA-TION! - but i really can't wrap myself in a sheath and carry myself on a stick till i find a mountain to scream on, i have to reevaluate what the hell i'm doing, and i DON'T FEEL GOOD AT ALL. i'm not stating why cause it's obvious why, if you need to inquire as to why then you don't know for a reason - it is a matter beyond you, and i don't own the matter so i'm not flaring it up anymore - but i feel positively totally horrible about myself.

and that is my own matter. i CAN tell you about what a bad person i am because that really isn't anyone else's concern but the demon's. i'm tired. i'm not worried or scared anymore cause i took care of that, i took care of everybody else.

i just found out what i lost, is all. if all of this is worth it then it's totally fine. totally fine. totally fine. better i tear myself to pieces than other people, better i not ruin it for anybody else...

it's all my fault for feeling things. allowing to be lulled into a sense of safety, a sense of control over something with a specific kind of person, AND NOT PSYCHOTIC CONTROL OF YOUR LIFE CONTROL - i say, control of a relationship, my dealings with another person, having confidence and an upper hand, how exciting...

i feel like a shotgun shell...

i don't feel well, at all...

but i'm not, i say, it isn't guilt tripping because it isn't for you to feel bad. HOW...HOW HAPPY! WOULD I BE! IF I WERE YOU! i don't even want to put it on xanga! holy shit, and jinx myself anymore than i have...

i do have to expunge it, though. rattle it off my back. my ribs are webbed with it. IT, WHAT IT, HOW CAN YOU TELL ME IT DOESN'T CONCERN ME well..., i say, well...wellywellywellywellywell...i am someplace entirely out of the matter where you are not, and i have seen it in a different way, that deemphasizes and shifts light so that i have seen suggestions, and my impression of the situation is that i have done pretty bad which was n-not myyyy inte-ention.

but hey better nerves. MUCH better. & thank goodness. i'm glad we spoke. i'm glad. i'm glad, and there's a lot that i could say that is nice and that makes me happy, but i'm not happy...but that is my own matter...other people don't make a person a demon, a demon's just a demon cause they can't generate anything but bad.)

& that was going in my xanga?! i'm loosing my mind. & i'm just writing about it to get it out...not to make anything worse or to complicate anything...i can't help what i feel. there's just a lot of that going on, isn't there?

if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
JOBJOBJOB
interviewinterviewinterview
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start
(& etc)