Just when you think life's slowing down, the merry-go-round picks up speed and turns into something resembling the "Inverter" ride over at Circus Circus. In other words, the moment I start to figure things out, my mind short circuits and I lose all footing.

The worst part is that I haven't been able to do what I usually do and synthesize all this chaos into something worthwhile. Like my whole half-year stint as a poet, or my ongoing attempt at becoming a serious artist. I am in search of a muse... not necessarily someone that I'm interested in pursuing, but someone that can spark my need to express.

No, I won't label it "teen angst." I know I have problems, specifically those of trust. (although my suspicions are more or less confirmed whenever I witness the commenting system that OpenDiary operates on; half of my friends all have one, mainly the theatre majors) So I don't speak up when something upsets me. I just get quiet or laugh louder.

But I'll say this much, I'm afraid that I've separated myself from Matt so much so that I can't even tell him about whatever is troubling me. The last phone conversation we've had... which was about a month or two ago... still consisted of these steps: I hint at something which has upsetted me in an attempt to be subtle, he blatanly asks me about it, I shut up or start mumbling my answer, he urges me on, I try to explain but am affronted by further mumbling, he drops the subject eventually. So nothing is ever really said. And it's almost been a month since we've had any correspondence at all.


At least the numbers are going down... that still makes me feel like utter shit though.

To avoid being overly melodramatic, I'm keeping this small. Yesterday I figured that I should just down poison and kill myself faster than I'm able with what I do now. Today, while the rest of the family went shoping at Michaels, I took out the household firearm and contemplated the trigger sound against my temple. Funny enough, I contemplate suicide because I'm curious... don't worry, the chances of anything coming to fruitition are very slim indeed.

. . . . . posted:||12:55 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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