I feel like such a cylinder tonight, and shit, I don't even know what that means.

I'm just having one of those moments where I wake up and there's nothing redeeming in my line of vision; everything in my suburb of old people seems still except for my stupid music blaring, and my crap littered all over the room, and the meaninglessness of it all, me included, just sucks all the air out of this room.

I'm the one who deems it meaningless and some might argue that that is what makes it so but given the evidence which is so meagre in comparison to those of others how could you make me call it anything else.

And yeah yeah I should change it but fuck, I mean, change, what the hell is that? What if I smile more, what if I wear a funny hat? Will that make it different?

Superficial transformations are the only ones I understand, I don't do the other kind. When you look at it, really look at it, I have the same issues that encircled me in high school. Fat. Pathetic. Useless. Pointless. Now I just spin them differently, but they're still there, I never changed myself enough to seperate myself from them.

And you know right now I'm crying because at this moment I am more certain of one thing more than anything in my life.

I haven't hurt myself enough for being what I am.

But what good would more punishment really do? Maybe I would just shut off permanently, and from here, fuck, from here that doesn't look so bad.

And I hate myself even more for saying any of this. I despise myself for being honest, because I don't see anyone else putting themselves on the line, all I see is people holding back. And if they're holding back then that by equation makes me less.

And you know, all I ever wanted in my life was to be average, I'd die happy if I thought I was even close. Yes, YES, I do want to be a sheep, sheep have other sheep around them at least and don't seem to be even dimly aware that they're going to the slaughter.

So some days I'll chase love and some days I'll chase god and when appropriate I'll chase the spirit of christmas but the food of the masses never sates me and I blame myself for that, for not trying hard enough, because I'm less, so much less...

And tomorrow I will say, oops, sorry about that the walls of my uterus appear to be shedding, oh my, I didn't mean a single thing I wrote, how embarrassment, and you, you will take that as read because anyone who hasn't got the grace to let this angsty vomit slip by without commenting in order to make themselves look good or feel better can go to skanky hell!

Fuck! Now that I've filled my swearing-while-bleeding quota I'm going to bed, and remember, remember what I said no matter how much I beg and cajole and offer sexual favours later on, remember.

Remember how pathetic and sad I was so I can further imagine how you must look down on me, and why I should look down on myself even more. Or maybe that's my backwards twisted way of asking you to forget, because I'm so pathetic that I regret my words already, so pathetic in even regretting my words because it implies they might mean something for those who read them.

I need to remember this. In a few years from now I'll look back and say "shit! I was such a loser!" but I always look back and say that so I will most likely still be one.

It's funny how I always search desperately for the bright side when I can weave any statement or situation into a large number of negative ways. Maybe this is why I prefer doing the latter, it's just so damn convenient.

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