Do I sense an orgasm?

I try to keep myself entertained at every second. Last night I wrote the 101 facts about Aerosmith and me. Fun, yes.

This thing of entertaining myself is....weird. It's like seeing down a canyon...I'm looking down, trying to keep balance, but I'm scared he is going to do something to make me fall off.

Strangely enough, since yesterday I've stayed away from thoughts that involve him. I try my best to keep myself busy: I'm getting back to playing the piano. I'm remembering F�r Elise and stuff like that. I'm trying to start cartooning Simeon again. I'm turning my room upside down. I'm working out every morning. And tomorrow I'm going to a bookstore to buy a couple of books and have a bookworm snack or something else that fits me.

This morning I caught on TV Imagine: John Lennon. I wanted to tape it but I just discovered it won't be aired again. Damn you, Cinemax.

Uh, yeah...I also....cut. Myself.

But just once. And not because I'm sad. In fact, I feel strangely calm. I did it because...well, I guess I'm just used to it. It's not easy to quit. Besides, I think it was also some kind of prevention. You know, a depression relapse because of him would be terrible. I don't want to feel rejected, worthless and brokenhearted anymore.

(Behold the healing power of self-injury if handled with responsability)

Maybe yesterday I did get tired. Maybe yesterday everything was really over. Maybe I when I said "this is enough already" I really meant it.

- Me: But maybe...
- Cel: maybe what?
- Me: Maybe I don't even love him anymore. Perhaps I keep thinking of him just because he hurt me...I honestly feel no love for him anymore. At least not right now. At least not lately.

I'm scared though. I'm really scared.

On lighter news, I had fun this morning. I locked myself in my bedroom and ran from corner to corner a thousand times. I was trying to run up the walls and stick to the ceiling. And I tried, and I tried.

Of course I made it, who do you think I am?

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