I feel like a lot of people are just waiting for me to stop thinking about killing myself and actually just do it already.

sometimes I feel like people are preparing for my death more than I am.

I like that you're as fucked up as I am.

I love being able to have someone to talk to about my unhealthy obsessions and fantasies of death, torture, self mutilation, and many other taboos. It's just nice to be able to tell someone that you often fantasize about sawing off your own arm drinking the blood and eating the flesh without them judging you. I love talking about the different ways I dream up death and torture and have someone listening who can entirely relate. It's nice not being the only sick fuck around here.

Giving a fuck really just takes too much effort.

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

I hate you because everything that's wrong with me is wrong with you too, and you make me realize how much it fucking hurts to love someone like us.

I get so lonely,

and wish and wish that someone would keep me company. But then when people do, I just get annoyed. Not an "I don't like you, go away" annoyed, but rather a "I'm too exhausted and talking to you is just too draining" annoyed. And then I'll find some excuse to end the conversation, or not hang out, or go home, or whatever, and I'll go right back to being lonely again.

I hate this fighting against myself stuff.

I'm conditioning myself for the big day.

Fear subsides.

I don't like the pain.

I like the moment right after the initial pain. When the pain is still there, and is still strong, but it's fading. I like to feel the pain as it drifts away. I like trying to remember what the pain felt like and what it felt like to dissipate. I like trying to hold on to the pain as it escapes me. I like becoming absorbed in the pain. Overcome by it. I connect with it. And though I don't like its intrusion, I miss it when it's gone.