Sunday, March 20, 2005 // 10:54 PM

emotionally high maintainence. i am self obsessed, but you know this already, dont you? my arrows are pointing in. more smoke and more ash. please let me be able to sleep tonight.

shaoning had a dream in which i was kingshaw, with kingshaw's state of mind. oh no i am kingshaw, oh no it cannot be helped. i will go out into the wood, and i will inhale a lake.

i want real company. some body share my lunch hours. i'm not sure if you want to be a real friend to me, if that would be too much to ask.

i am emotionally. high, high maintainence. hey pig piggy pig pig pig. i think you would call me a freaky character, but i dont care, i dont care.

sam sim. hello i miss you. i wonder how you're feeling, i wonder what Everyday is like to you now. sigh.

tomorrow after school i shall. sleep, write, sleep. sleep. train. go home. sleep. you see, i am planning realistically, so as to not disappoint myself.

let me say something good about today, to assure that i am not so suicidal as before. i wore heels, played touch rugby, not together. i played the piano and ate a peanut butter waffle. i wandered around church for about two hours being completely unproductive. i was impressed with the extent of daryl's self control. wilfred i think gave me another bruise. i ate lunch with joel, i ate lunch with marcus. i talked to marcus, who is nice. i saw tracy who is familiar and who thus makes me feel happy. i grabbed one of matthew's legs and michelle grabbed the other, and we dragged him about a metre, more, and he twists and writhes and breaks free. i scored during touch rugby i think because matthew thinks that i will never make it and therefore doesnt bother to stop me from getting to the goal line. dinner was watching other people feel comfortable, me, not wanting part of this picture. this is a picture, after all.

today he said that i sound like i'm perpetually on something. what is it, girl, where can i get some?

ella. i will not say, tell me how to help it, any more. i am something like seventeen years old and i will not will not let instability control me, i will not let you control me. i will not wriggle myself free of responsibility. club yourself on the head and make yourself care.

sometimes i wish that the world was so that when i died it would just be like closing my eyes, sleeping forever. i am tired of consciousness. i dont think i will grow out of this, i am sorry. i am not upst any more, i have gotten it part way out of my system.

ella. why do you write so much? do you ever think about that? do you feel the need to have something to show for your sadness? which is not perpetually, necessarily, but which is. something completely natural.

i wonder what khin is like now. because i remember yellow, i remember for you i bleed myself dry. i want to know if chris martin is thinking of the same, when he says, i drew a line, i drew a line for you.

i try to imagine holding a blade to my skin, again. gold star for you, no, gold star for me.