Wednesday, 01/01/03 - 6:30 pm.
Um, hi....happy new year, I guess.
I tried to watch my Aerosmith New Year's Eve tape last night, but there were too many people in the house. Everybody wanted to see the goddamn news...old news, by the way. Just what happened throughout the year. But anyway, I got tired of watching, because I discovered how lame it is to watch alone something that gives you the chills. I wished I had had someone to share my feelings with.
I kind of spent New Year's Eve with him. Kind of. We were online the entire night. He logged out ten minutes to midnight, and logged back in five minutes past midnight. Victor was the last person I talked to in 2002, and he was the first person I talked to this year.
Also, Elmo's World was the last show of 2002 and the first show of 2003 I watched. I must say that I take more pride in that than in "I spent the last minutes of 2002 and the first minutes of 2003 talking to him".
It is lame to be in front of the computer at midnight, I know. And there were people, lots of people here, but there was a generation gap between all of them and me: no one was older than 10 and younger than 27. I had no one to talk to, except for him, and it was somewhat a fun conversation, it was ok. Wishing for something like it didn't even cross my mind, so for being a freebie, it wasn't that bad.
My spine was killing me, my throat/nose/ears were killing me, my period had arrived...I went to bed early. At maybe 12:30 am. I was thirsty, alone, uncomfortable, I wanted to be somewhere else...I wanted to be nowhere.
So I woke up this morning, feeling dead. This house is empty, except for my parents. My dad wouldn't stop singing old, depressive songs the entire morning. My spine kept killing me. This is the shaping up to be the lamest year of all, and it hasn't even been 24 hours of it yet.
I want to die. I want to kill myself. I can't of course, there's the family, that would be unfair for them. But I have no will to live at all. I want to cry, but I don't want to. If I could at least hurt my skin...
Last night, he and I were discussing the three dates in which comitting suicide is perfect: christmas' Eve, New Year's Eve and your birthday. I wish, I do wish I dared to do it. I still have one more chance.
I'm about to leave. I'm going to see The Two Towers with two of my brothers. I'm really not excited. I just want to die.
(well, that sounded neat)