Sunday, 09/07/03 - 11:55 am.
I asked Rod last night on IM if he'd talked to Veronica. He said he hadn't, and that she probably was isolating herself.
I felt bad. If she's isolating herself, lucky her someone's noticed. Yeah, ok, I felt bad for me. Because when I've tried to isolate myself, it seemed nobody even noticed I was. I had this uncontrollable rage, because I always have to look back and remember how insignificant I've felt at times to everybody.
This morning though, I thought that maybe she's just feeling too bad to talk to anybody although she needs someone to talk to. And that if her friends think "oh, she's isolating herself" she's probably been left alone. So I decided to call her while listening to Magical Mystery Tour.
It turns out she's ok. I felt relieved. I was thinking perhaps she wouldn't want to talk to me and would tell me to go to hell. But people always appreciate their friends taking their time to call them up here and there. I mean, just look at The Sims.
I turned down the volume of my stereo while talking to her. When I hung up I turned it back up, right at the time when John sings on Strawberry Fields: "...I think it's not too bad". He's right, isn't he?
But before I called her this morning, I had a horrible dream at night. There were two, actually, cut off in the middle by fear. I woke up really scared. Then I fell asleep again and dreamed something worse that made me keep my eyes wide open for a long time. It's happened once, anyway (what I dreamed). It could happen again. It happens in several countries around the world everyday. Maybe I'll write about it later or tomorrow. I really need to get it out.
And even before the horrible dream (I wouldn't consider it a nightmare, just a bad dream), before I fall asleep that is, I cut myself. Because I was still being haunted by horrible feelings and memories from high school. But for the record, it wasn't exactly cutting. The xacto blade is sharpless, it left just a few red lines on the wrists, nothing noticeable. It hurt a little at first and that helped me to get the bad memories off my head for a while.
That's when I feel weak. When I look back on my older entries (or just remember stuff, for that matter) and I wonder if it was really *that* bad, or maybe I was (am) just overreacting to typical teenage issues. But then a voice on the back of my head whispers yes, it was that bad, and you know it.
I haven't gone through half of the things other people has. Just some social rejection, and being ignored and having to repress some strong feelings everyday and being looked down as a simple sex object by someone, and being turned down and made feel worthless by another someone, and going unnoticed at times, specially when being sad, and having friends-who've-left-you-alone telling you they're alone and you're happily surrounded by people, when in reality you're as lonely as ever...I don't know. It took so little to destroy me, and I'm so pathetic I still haven't built myself back up completely.
In my heart I always feel a soft spot...I don't know how else to describe it. It feels like a sharp object through it, and makes it bleed a little and then it feels a little wet and stained and dirty. Even in happy moments (not happy-happy, but nice moments, like having breakfast with my parents out in the terrace on such a beautiful day) I feel it inside. And that's when I think I deserve nothing I have.
I could go on, but it just so happens that I won't.
Thought of the day: I want to work at a record store.
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