Things i'll never say..

Much like that Avril Lavigne song.

See..there is this thing. I tried to tell O2 but i couldn't. I actually tried really hard, my fingers were even hovering over the keys in anticipation of the autonomic signals waiting to be sent to my digitorum muscles [of which there are several which i should but can't name] but i couldn't..i knew if i said it something would happen..something which would begin with tears and end i've no idea where, but i've a sneaking suspicion if it began with tears it would end in an even worse state.

I should write it here. This is the one and only place i have that is private, is mine and only mine; where i am anonymous and blindfolded from everyone. Here i am a drop in a ocean of bullshit and superfilous blogging. And i fucking love it. But i have an extreme paranoia, after what happened last time, that someone, somewhere, who i know, will be reading. It's irrational, undeniably..but it was devastating. Admitedly, what i write here is a lot less sensitive that what i wrote before, and on the original blog i probably looked..well, i looked like exactly who i was. I never lied about what i felt or what i did to myself..i was a terrifyingly messed up kid.

And i don't think i was that affected by what that individual knew about me; it was the possibility, because i knew they had copied and pasted the entire blog's history, that they could show someone else. That they could show the entire world. Anonymity is a huge factor, it allows for control..something which i lost, most epically, when i met the first counsellor.

A feeling that is very bad has taken over me, it is probably the worst feeling which i could possibly have in my entire life. OK, that is an overstatement of gargantuan proportions. It's not that bad, but it just hurts, a lot..right, it's coming..i'm just building myself up to it now, warming up my digitorum muscles..it's going to come, am i ready? No..but i'm going to do it anyway aren't i? I fucking well hope so..here goes nothing..oh dear..i can't do it. Fuck this.

I am an idiot. I hate this.

I'm going to roll a cigarette.

I am in love with Hg.

It tears me in two. And it is ridiculous. I thought it had gone away, i thought it was just a thing, like..a little small thing that wasn't really very serious..or i had tried to rationalise it into that. But it wasn't. It was quite a big thing. I don't think i've ever sucked on a cigarette quite so much. I would love to say i was pathetic. But i can't be that person anymore; riddled with self hatred and loathing. It's bad enough that i think i have PTSD because of what i used to do to myself. That's gone, in the past.

But i do love her.

Good times eh? Good fucking times. Fuck the mighty boosh, up the arse; unprotected.

This is going to end oh so badly. It's going to end in a terrible state. A terrible, drunken, high, fucked off my face state.

You know when i realised? This is so hurrendous. We were in some boys bedroom several people, getting Happy, and they [Hg and the boy] were talking about peoples smell. She said; "i think love has a smell" i thought about what she'd said, absorbed it, and somehow, god know's how a brain is capable of this, but somehow, her smell filled my mind. I was too Happy to care at that moment, but in hindsight it was awful. Then..i couldn't really deny it anymore.