mandag den 13. september 2010


I hate this.
Waiting for something to trigger me to become somebody else is beyond boresome, not to mention devastating.

I want to do and be more but I keep waiting for a sign to take action.

I loath myself so much when I'm alone, it's hard even to do the dishes. I hate myself. This body, personality and mind seems so out of place in the world I sometimes forget how to walk properly when going to the store. I live on the outside of my life. Spending endless hours reading about imaginary worlds and burdening myself with imaginary emotions. Reading the same pages again and again to pickle the moment in a little jar in my head. I feel wrong. I am wrong. Fake. Lifeless. Misplaced. Odd. Awkward. F.A.T.
I know that if I was skinnier, people would think my insanity to be a little more cute and a little less appalling.

Thomas has been in Saudi Arabia (his a businessman) for over a month. He calls me every night and says that he misses me and that he loves me, I repeat his words in my high pinched voice spattered with something close to remorse, and then hang up.
I hate myself so much less when his close to me.

Maybe that's why I'm being so fucked up at the moment. Thomas always tone down my crazy... Just a notch. God how I wish he was here to pet my hair and kiss me... I don't really remember how it feels to be kissed? Can that be right? Does the sensation go away this quickly?
Then I'm screwed if he dies...
I'm pretty sure I would die too...

Confused and tired love

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