He hasn't called me...

I hate myself.
I am a sapphic femminst who loves and desires men.
I am happy when I'm numb.
I sleep better in the light, or in his bed.
I crave to feel her, and fear to lose him.
I hate Tea, but I smoke it.
I have so much I want to do, but I'm tired and lazy.
I decided to cave into birthcontrol to end up with all the negitive side effects (however it has removed the pregnancy element from my life by making sex too painful to go through with).
I want money to escape, but I have a spending problem.
I am depressed, stressed, alone and sexually deprived.
I am lost.


So I really don't know what to do with myself. I was hoping by now I would be in a relationship with my ex and that I would be better by now. I caved into mutilation, and I exploded. Changes take time, but this is frustrating.

"Easy is just too comfortable, too simple. And I am one of those slack and laguid women, and I like it. Don't want to be too difficult: a women can die from complications. You know what you are too: a hard woman, bought with an even harder diamond. Not me. I am easy, disposable, a convenience like anything else you rent or buy, eventually throw out. The men like girls like me, I have no face to condemn them, just the flowing shape of a woman, my cunt young and loose, a one-size-fits-all garment for their slow bodies, their sagging lives." -Rima Banerji (an excerpt from Sugar Zero)

I am vulnerable...Can you love me?