:: 2005 30 January :: 2.24 pm

Thieves, whores, and addicts. Once and always.
No, let's stop framing the question in flowers and sunlight.
Once a cheater, always a cheater. Fucking hell.

He asked me (less then a month ago, jebuz) "will you cheat on me." & i said no.
Technically, I just did.
& what bothers me most is I want to do it again.

I could care less about the sex, but it's the interplay that gets to me. The being sexy. The being so close to someone, feeling his shoulder under my arm. Kisses.

& at the same time I love it, & at the same time I am revulsed.
shitshitshitshit.
Didn't believe me when I said I wasn't worth it, did you boy?
Guess that makes you a fool twice over.

(What the hell is wrong with me: What have I become, my sweetest friend.)
I will let you down, I will make you hurt.

myxomatosis

:: 2005 30 January :: 5.39 am

you know, if this were anyone else, i would say, it's only human, don't beat yourself up about it. yeah, it was a shit thing to do, but don't beat yourself up about it. over and over, always the forgiveness. because what are friends for.

but this is me.
& i am the judge, jury, and executioner.

i can't live like this. fuck. not for another two years. not for another five. fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

i missed you the second i realized i was leaving.
i think this may have been the last time
oh, god. i just want to . . .

myxomatosis

:: 2005 29 January :: 5.59 pm

You know. Reading over old entries I realized just how . . . uptight I was. & that was only a couple of weeks ago.

Somehow I've learned to relax. Not to worry about it.

That scares me, it's always when I'm happy that I do the most harm.

myxomatosis

:: 2005 29 January :: 5.30 pm

Originality is for naught, but only in one such as I. Where did the Underground go? What the fuck happened to neverland, to effigy, to Jeezum, why am I so obsessed with killing them all off?

Oh. Right. Jim.

I killed Sab for his sake. Once. In hindsight, at this particular moment, it seems a grevious error. A hideously inhuman act of cold-blooded murder. Butbackmeuponthis: She wanted to die and I know it, I wanted her gone and I know it, I was trying to be this person Shi had brought from within me but--

I killed that too.

Perhaps that is what bothers me most, really, is the girl that Jim met and fell for in Mississippi is not who I am today. I am who I was before I ever met her and now . . . I'm not sure if I'm even capable of coexisting with anyone. This endless circle/spiral . . .

I destroyed the Underground, or they destroyed themselves. Perhaps from too much publicity, perhaps from too little, perhaps it was simply never strong enough to hold its own. Perhaps I needed to be a little more like her [youknow] and keep it all in until it burst forth to devour me.

Maybe I just need to draw more.

I want to speak to them, feel them, become enfolded in them like I used to, but they all smack of death and failure now. Everyone that ever was is dead, even the self-proclaimed "survivor." Jim may have knocked things around a little, but all he really did was sped up the rate of my own decay. Until there was nothing left.

I want/ed to die, so badly. If he hadn't told me it would destroy him to kill myself, I would have. Would still. I live not for the sake of living but for the sake of not harming him.

I suppose it makes about as much sense as clinging to the hope of ever seeing ][.

I dunno, man. I feel so human. It leaves me so lost.

myxomatosis

:: 2005 21 January :: 11.20 pm

http://www.livejournal.com/users/peaceicon/240632.html

& i find myself wondering what i would do if i ever became pregnant. knee-jerk reaction: kill it. don't spare the sympathy, just off the fucking thing.
barring some random rape, though, it'd be half jim's. i could never kill a child of his. it's so surreal, realizing that even though i technically donated hal fthe dna i would still consider it entirely his, myself nothing but an incubator.
[i was serious when i said i'd carry their child. her egg, his sperm, my womb. & i could get my tubes tied and--
what.
give up? forever?
]
i'm slightly drunk and very depressed, these tend to go hand in hand. the room does not yet spin.
he said, i could have the baby and just give it to him. he'd take it back to california and be a sinlge father and.
i couldn't. fucking. stand that.
it's mine. MINE. my responsibility. my child. my.
like shillowe said, "i'd get too attached, i know i would."
but i couldn't raise it.
but i couldn't leave it.
but i but i but i. arg.
i know if i ever have kid/s i will give it/them so many fucking mental problems . . . genetically if not socially. [my grandfather was depressed. suicide. never met him.] i'd be a shit mother and that scares me. scares me because i would still try. and i would be watching this person that i love beyond all words grow into possibly a version of myself. i don't wish that on anyone.
if any child of mine turns out like me, it'll break my fucking heart.
i guess that's my point. if i even have one.
[it's all hypothetical anyway. i won't even see him for another three months, at best. so whatever, eh.]

myxomatosis