I really feel like dying...

Hm.

I bet this does murder to your insides. Advil shuts my head up, though, so it's bearable.

Haha.

This is just really funny to me, I guess. New job, have to get a work permit. I'm going to like it there, but I'd still rather work at a comic book store. God, would I have so much to talk about there. Video games... not so much. Or CDs, music, and the like.

Music I'm just a crazy person about. I can't get enough of it, to tell you the truth. I'm listening to it right now. I'll probably be deaf at an early age... Now I'm just rambling. All the caffiene!

It's amazing... really. To focus, or rather, have the lack of focus, to deal with things. You're just too fuckin' hyper to care! Yes! Yesterday was even better. I was so completely gone... I need to get out of the house.

Haha.

Rocking back and forth is associated with being just a little bit out there, neh? It's just a little nervous energy! I don't know why people just can't be more accepting. I need to go running in circles, or dance like an epileptic.

Haha.

I fucking hate people so damned much. Just so damned much, and I can relate to a computer screen better than an actual human. I'm going to go with the thought that that's probably... bad. Caffiene and a lot of bullshit talking is what's keeping me from just out and out locking myself away. What's worse is not knowing what the fuck I want. I really have no clue.

Do I want to be doing things with this guy I rarely see, do I want a relationship with someone so emotionally unstable? I've never been so damned confused about a person. Do I like him or just need to get laid? Thinking about sex like that sounds so degrading. My stomach has this nauseous thing that it's doing again... it's become comforting to feel sick. I don't tell people about these things, or anything else. I act like most things are fine. I stay quiet.

I kiss when I'm kissed, touch when I'm touched, recoil at each and every person when they joke with me. It's not that I feel better than everyone else, I'm not perfect, I'm not high and mighty with the intelligence of a damned scholar at the age of 17. No. It's not that. It's something I can't put my finger on. I'm not bipolar, I'm not fucked in the head. Sickness in the mind seems almost non-existant now. I just feel.... automatic. They're only reflexes and habits; adaptation.

God I hate self-analyzation.