Thursday, November 24, 2005 // 11:48 PM

stop, stop making me feel like i have to defend myself, all the time. i have claws but i don't want to use them, so stay, stay away.

tomorrow, i'm thinking of. stealing away to play the piano, because i didn't get to, today, and. and that's only one of the things i'm unhappy/sad/frustrated/malcontented about. another thing is that, i don't know, i never get to talk talk to people anymore. i liked staying up til four talking to terence at his house that night, but this is rare, and i know, increasingly so, he's going to be in Better Company. sigh. who will talk to me! nobody else would bother. i feel so endlessly stressed about playing the piano for yw and i can't purge it, can't heck it, so maybe, maybe i will try again tomorrow, to reremember that only playing for God's benefit and no one else's. gloria let me whack her (pretty hard), to vent my frustrations, last now, and so i messaged her a thank you for being obliging.

and i've felt alone, could you tell? and angsty, and antagonistic, and full of Crap, just these few hours. sigh. i've had comfort crying jags all day, tell me why people get bouts of Mysterious Sadness, but not bouts of Mysterious Happiness. we've been cheated, or i've been cheated, i really really really hope this is pms.

i don't know what to say. when you have a shitty day, you tend to do things that work to making it worse and worse and worse. i need. i need to feel safe, and so sweet, sweet is too much to ask, i suppose the least i could be is. more than self-destructive.