2000-09-11 - eleven twelve

i think i might've figured it out.

there was this part of me that has always wanted to be consumed. along the lines of being truly taken, even if it meant getting beaten up, burned, anything. i don't know where the hell it came from. in freudian terms it's like an oddyseus complex (that exist?) where i got so much shit in the past that i need to continue the momentum or it's no longer enuf excitement, good or bad.

i'm sorry. i shouldn't feel this way. why aren't i stopping i'm desperately sorry

desperation..

things MUST happen. no lulls. continuous and ongoing wrapping upwards not up. sex/everything should be done with everything should - why the hell am i saying - hurt everything should passion touch should be so hard so there that there are grooves and riverbeds and canyons left in me are well-molded rounded hollows where i was rubbed off i'm worn down i'm worn out i'm worn.

anyhow, that's how i feel as of this moment. it's not a forever thing. i like things the way they are very very much, i'm just spoiled as fuck.