I keep breaking down in front of him and I keep promising I won't do it again.
He and I are so similar that It must be another one of those cosmic coincidences.
I keep asking why I am where I am, but I think that it's probably just to have met
the people here that I have and learn what I can from them, and maybe to leave
them with a lesson or two as well.

Some of you casual Deviants may be wondering why I'm posting this. Really
I ignore the fact that this journal is meant to record artistic process. A person
is the sum of his experiences, and life in this way, from the beginning to the end,
is really an artistic process. Please know that there are certain people who I
am writing this for, whom I simply could not tell this to in person, people I considered
Never telling. In fact, if you don't know me in person, or regularly speak to me
please skip the next paragraph, and instead take this joke:how do crazy people
get through the forest? ON PSYCHOPATHS!!"

What he knows is that I am emotional. What he doesn't know is just how much
worse I used to be. Of all the range of human emotion, Guilt has been what I've felt
the most often, in the most extreme. I was always a well behaved child, and the
thought of doing anything wrong got to me. Deep down. Some people tell me/think
that I've never been depressed, or that I don't have problems because I don't
take meds, or I don't see any therapists. But I'll tell them they're wrong. Lately I've
been fine, but prevously my highs have been high and my lows have been low.
There have been times in my life when guilt and regret had turned to self-loathing
and I would make the choice to replace mental anquish with physical pain.
I think now and go back to reread one of my poems. Perhaps he already knew this
and just never lead on that he did. That would be his sort of thing to do. (And it bothers me
that a deviant thought that poem was written from my imagination.) If I didn't respect him
I wouldn't feel so bad for thinking I might have hurt him. When a grown man with eyes wide
and hands shaking is baring his soul to people he cares for, It's immense to think you've
wronged someone who is so vulnerable at the time.

Until the past few days I was having the best month I've had in a long, long time.
While Jen remained the shyer of the two of us the weekend I met her, I knew well
enough that she was nothing short of the sweetest kindest girl I've ever known.
What I can't get over, and it's been weeks, is that we may have never met, or
bothered to spend the time with eachother if it hadn't been for our choice in
costumes at Connecticon. While the distance thing is tough, it keeps me on track
with other things that are equally as important to me, like school.
I'm quite seriously considering a school in the Boston area after this.
Everyone I talk to about it seems to really like the city, and as much as
I hate cities, I think living and learning just outside of it would be a lot of fun.
It gets me a school I probably won't hate, one that is not full of as much corporate
Bull Shit as this one. It gets me away from parents. It gets me away from people
I don't want to see anymore, yet at the same time both further from and closer to
people who mean the world to me.

I feel like I'm ten paces behind in a huge race, but my body doesn't have enough
energy to push any further. As refreshing as it is to get help, Something about my
bullheaded independence gets in the way. I want people to cheer for me, and not
give me a push. I couldn't do this without fans.

Lately sleep has not come easy to me. Dreams are more tiring than real life.
They seem to fortell what is to come in the day ahead. I had a good one last night.
I need Caffeine. But over all, It doesn't get much better.