Fuck this day, thank God it's over.
Saturday, 12/28/02 - 9:23 pm.

Yay, we just heard from Alan. He's just fine, safe and warm in Manhattan. Thank God.

Well, I came back from the country not too long ago. It was a nice trip at first and the place was lovely, although very damaged by the 2001 earthquakes and poverty. There still remained that "something" about humble, familiar towns though.

We had some troubles due to incommunication and we almost get robbed at some public pools. You see, the place was cool, but this generation it's pure shit.

Long story short, I got home pissed off. There was yet another chapter of me being overprotected, this time by Renan. I couldn't stand it, and it was so bad that he ended up promising he'll never overprotect me again. I feel very underrated.

I hate going on trips like this, come back home and find an empty inbox. I checked all of my e-mail accounts (three) and not a damn thing. It's really sad. It's like I'm not missed. I feel unimportant. Ditched by friends.

Tomorrow we're going to the beach, coming home on monday. At least I'm taking Frog this time.

My mom discovered the ugliest scar on my arm, and she freaked out. She showed it to everybody and I got asked how it happened. I said scratched my arm, and to make it worse, I had a pimple there; it was a terrible itch and I damaged my skin. Everybody believed it. And my brother said that the only way for that scar to dissapear is to take esteroids, otherwise, it'll never disappear.

It's funny. The fact of me being a self-cutter will never cross their minds. I think they don't even know self-mutilation exists.


Argh, I'm just going to bed.

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