Just some random notes before I have to get back to dusting:

Once I've been comfortably outside of the norm (i.e. out and about) I've lost almost all sense of perveristy. A couple days back Kristen told me that she overheard someone say "Oh yeah, he's always drawing naked men" about my sketchbook. First, it's a bit unnerving yet flattering to find out that I've developed a reputation. Second, I never knew people considered me perverse. Granted, the fact that I jump men in dark corners is enough for some to call me perverse, but then there is the entire biting thing, along with the recent need for handcuffs. And some other information which I shall not disclose (you don't want to know, Sarah). But I don't think of any of it as perverse; it's just a part of me. Just like I don't think that lesbians are perverse or straight people are. Keep in mind that this is all in the context of sexuality; I'm not even touching on subjects like medical research and the like. Ahem... As I was saying, I don't follow anyone's standard of normality, I've created my own.

Feelings of apathy have set in again. I'm at the point where I don't think that sudden thoughts of suicide are that unusual. Case in point: today I snuck in a piece of rock candy when I thought that 24 bits of Advil would go down nicely with iced tea because the tastes would compliment eachother. In the end I just grabbed two for the headache I developed from the chemical smells. Several weeks ago I was sitting in church, bored out of my mind by father Kermit-the-Frog, when I looked down and thought that a pack of C4 would do nicely around my waist at that moment. Not too sure why...

Jamie Oliver: "And you just stick yer hand in there... erm, yer finger in there." The Naked Chef is a wonderful show. Hoffman thinks so too. Can't wait for the premiere of his new show this Tuesday night.

While watching "Josie and the PussyCats," the body-length pillow somehow ended up ontop of me. At that moment I noticed the yellow-amber cast from the lamp, the weight ontop of me, and the song "You Don't See Me" playing in the background. At that moment I realized that it's been almost four years. My bed told me last night that it was feeling lonely again. I had to agree.

I need to learn that I'm not the one to blame all of the time. Normally I screw up a lot, but normally... nevermind. I wish I didn't care. I know I shouldn't care, but I do. And it hurts that I do. Everything about that hurt. Because...

Coincidently, the last segment of the description for that online quiz I took below. I didn't even notice it.

No, I'm still (a)pathetic. Just not about that certain topic. Wish I could say, but I can't. No, I didn't promise anyone about it. Just don't feel like talking about it to anyone at the moment. Anyone who knows.

"The bruises prove it's real."

Holly in a basket.