Update: I want nothing more than kill myself right now. If a day is okay in the morning, it will be piss-poor by the time you're supposed to go to bed. This is all thanks to my fabulous self.
The entry was written before I realized I'm feeling like shit today too.
- - -
30.3.2000
"Of course, there's
one who isn't here:
The sickly crying child, who went home early.
She carved lines in her arms
In painful dark.
Their songs brought on her death."
- a part of 'school reunion' by Eq.
I read and I read.
For no reason, just to pass the time.
- - - - - - -
I dreamt of kissing someone
last night. It makes me feel like I'm a date rapist or something.
Who am I to include other people in my dreams? Who am I to kiss
them, on top of it all?
They're dreams, of course, they're not real. It still disturbs me
though. They have nothing to say about it. Neither do I, actually,
but that's a bit different. Those dreams are in my head and
something must have caused them. I'm not saying I have a crush on
someone (at least I hope not) but why then? Why do I dream of
kissing someone?
And it wasn't a friendly kiss, forget all about that. It was
quite an embarrassing kiss, actually. In the dream even. Weird
and somehow out of place.
I don't dream of kissing people often. Almost never. It might be
revealing that I never dreamt of kissing the ex. But ex was a
mistake anyway.
I just don't get this. I felt completely okay with it in the
dream but when I woke up I freaked. I need to find out what
kissing someone usually means in a dream. I'd think that at least
Freud has given it a completely surprising meaning. I hope he has.
It'd calm me down.
I'm pretty much asexual,
actually. I don't dream about kissing people, I don't think I've
dreamt of having sex ever in my life. I have no desire to kiss
people and/or have sex with them in real life. I've also decided
that I'm emotionally incapable of falling in love. I'm pretty
much frozen inside when it comes to something like love. I might
like people, but liking them is the most I've ever felt. Only
talking about positive emotions, of course.
I've read too much about 'true love', that kind of love that
makes your head spin and heart jump out of your chest. I don't
think I believe in it. It feels like an impossible emotion. At
least when it comes to my emotions.
That might because of depression, of course.
Or social phobia.
The dream made me feel out
of balance. Usually very vivid dreams do that. This was a vivid
dream and it was also a disturbing thing to dream of. I'd rather
believe that I'm unemotional, especially when it comes to other
people but this seems to contradict that thought. I didn't feel
much in the dream, no rush of sexual desire, but it also felt
completely like it should be, like it should happen.
Even if it was a bit embarrassing, even if I was afraid I'd do
something wrong. I was afraid I'd crush the poor person I was
trying to kiss. You know, performance anxiety. I was trying too
much.
It wasn't a positive dream, actually. It was that kind of dream
that you know won't work out. I ended up trying to give him my
cell phone number but for some reason it proved to be impossible.
I couldn't remember what the number was. And I couldn't find it
out either, and when I was trying to tell it to him when I was
phoning him the line kept cracking and I couldn't hear what he
said. I think that made me nervous too, the inevitable doom. I
ended up where my grandmother used to live and I had to get to
her house but there was too much snow everywhere. I got stuck in
the snow. It was dark and everything was wrong and I couldn't
find the one I had kissed.
I've dream a lot about that place, lately.
- - -
I was pretty cheered up
this morning, despite the dream.
Now I'm just worn and tired and slightly drunk. Not drunk enough
though.
Not drunk enough to stop being present.
Oh, yeah, it's this again, I don't want to be. I don't want to be
me. The self-hatred. Haven't cut though.
It'd make me feel better, probably. But I'm too angry at myself
to want to feel better. Too disgusted at myself. For no reason,
really. I just feel mean. I feel like I'm a terrible person. And
I am. I am.
Who isn't?
I read Equin0x poems
yesterday. I had lots of time to pass and I figured I couldn't
possibly feel any worse anyway. Actually, reading them made me
feel better. It happens sometimes. Not often enough tho.
I liked his poems on death and lost love. And I felt like someone
had slapped me when I read a bit of 'school reunion'. I think some
of my class made plans to see each others in 2005. I'm not going
to be around. If I'm alive, there's no way I'll go there. I never
want to see any of them again.
Not that they were mean to me. Not most of them. Most of them
ignored me like I ignored them. I liked it that way. I still don't
want to meet them. I didn't like them then, I don't know why I
should go there. Sometimes I wonder what some of them do right
now tho. I haven't seen the majority of them since I was 15.
High school was different. I cared about the classmates even less
than before. They were more grown-up, better at ignoring people
who wanted to be ingored. More polite, even. Yeah, high school
classmates were okay. Of course I never knew any of them.
But I wouldn't want to meet them either. There's no reason to go
and plenty of reasons why not to.
If there was a school reunion, then maybe. But most of the people
I ever knew wouldn't be there. I know them, they wouldn't care.
And if I don't see them now, there's no reason to go and meet
them then. There'd still be nothing to talk about, nothing alike
in us, nothing to share.
I think I'm too avoidant. I just don't want to see anyone. It's too difficult. Too much anxiety and panic. I feel so much safer when I'm inside, on my own. Too much safer. I just don't want to go anywhere. Of course I have to. But that's partly why I'm thinking of killing myself. It's that difficult.