In Ihrem Spinne Netz.

I berate myself it seems. If I wasn't Skeletor, Queen of the Skinny Bitches and actually had more flesh, apparently I would have the perfect body. Good to know...so should I eat beyond my means to try and attain this? No thanks. With any luck, I would just get a budha belly and have stick arms and legs. Work out? Sometimes I can barely walk when I am wearing my boots and carrying a bag (and all those layers of clothing). I prefer looking like a corpse. Keeps the men away. I do not wish to be oggled, but regardless of how I look it happens anyway (a perfect body would make it worse).
Some strange affair lays before me. A request that I have problems following. It is like being asked to kill your best friend so that the person requesting it doesn't have to look at them anymore. I do not want to get involved, but I am the center of it all. The person who wants something wonderful to come of this expects me to be a seductive creature who takes charge, when I am really an awkward and not so sexy person. I think it would be more enticing to seduce the guy at work who winks at me or my future brain analyzer. Everything is more meaningless when you don't care about the person...but then the whole act of intimacy becomes just as meaningless.

Dieser Hölle zu entgehen würde uns von der Zerstörung speichern.
Stuck in a rut. Busy but not. Mentally gone as usual. I am getting a psychologist soon, starting classes next month, trying to finish other work all over the place so when I slip on my numb suit, all I do is sit and feel the stinging pain throughout my body and stare off into oblivion. He doesn't understand my numb state. It is pretty much an overload and shut down of my body. It happens every so often and I don't want to do anything when it this state. Total apathy. Don't want to move, don't want to feel anything, don't want to be pleasured, just want to sit and feel numb. It generally occures after enjoying myself while being depressed. Recently it happened. On Friday, we had two friends over and I got to laugh and enjoy their company. Earlier that day and when I was alone or thinking too much during our companies visit, I felt so useless and like my life was wrong. My real self is in some coma and I don't actually have blue hair, problems and sorrow. I don't actually do drugs, fuck boys and crave girls. I am a good girl trapped in a coma, dumb and loved by friends I have...but I don't have these friends anymore. I have blue hair and I have more problems in my life then I want to deal with. Since I felt all this, when they went away I became numb. He had no clue what was wrong even though I tried to explain (something I am horrible at). Since he believes he knows everything already, he won't bother to read this. Somehow I can always articulate my thoughts a lot better when I type them out.
This weekend should be nice. I get to drown my thoughts with Absinthe (really, I should have huge problems with drugs, alcohol or other coping with life habits, but I have more control then I want) and have the opportunity to be social, though stupid. Seeing as everyone else will feel and behave the same, I have no problems misplacing my intelligence for an evening. The next evening I will be treated to free food. However, family is involved and apparently, they have adopted my male companion whether I like it or not. Good to know they like him and believe that I have a lovely furture of marriage and parasites (babies) ahead of me. I have given up on the idea of children. Of course I won't feel hung over which is delightful. Absinthe is very dangerous...(last time I got up and felt fine. Pissed out of my head the night before, but no problems with pain the next day...outside of the hunger and ulcer in my stomach). Sunday is a mystery of course...
There is a Hippotamus in everyone's head (I know the actual term. Hippotamus is just more confusing and relivent to what I was talking about lastnight). He makes you hungry, and when you turn thirteen, he goes crazy! He controls the pubesent pit in your torso. Smart little monster.

Küssen Sie mich merkwürdiger. Lassen Sie meine Schmerz mit Ihren weichen Lippen fliehen. In mein Bett und ziehe krieche mir Ihr Vergnügen ein. Ich wünsche Sie und muß Ihnen glauben so schlecht. Ich bebe am Gedanken des Habens Sie aufwickelte zwischen meinen Beinen, umfaßt in der Freude. Mein Geheimnis und mein Meister. Ich wünsche Sie so schlecht.