But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Awake and Dead All I do is change one thing for another. I have not slept in two days. Last night I got sloshed. I downed 6 1/2-16oz. beers. I must have passed out twenty times. I remember a lot of washcloths being put on my head. "Dim, you are as funny as fuck!" Everyone thought I was pretty cool. I guess I talked more than usual. Most people who know me think that I will judge them, they think I think that I am better than them. Why? I suppose it is because my mom has always kept me in expensive, preppy clothes. I refuse to have a hair out of place when I go out, I must have on light make-up, and I must look like I know what the hell I am doing. Many of my friends say that before they met me they were afraid of me because I seem so perfect. Yes, I suppose that I can hide the real me in a shell. The outside is the complete opposite of the inside. Now they are starting to combine. I let a guy get with me. We didn't have sex. We made out. He fingered me. I kept on passing out. Then asking for another beer, another cigarette. We drove the streets at up to 105 MPH. My original intention of going to the party was to watch my friends who were stoned. They ended up watching me. Afterwards everyone came back to my place and we ended up watching, "Family Guy" on DVD. I realized then that I will never have what I truly want. I was someone's bitch for the night. Someone untouchable. I hold a 4.0 GPA, and my policy has always been that I wouldn't even get into a serious relationship, much less anything sexual, until I was finished with pre-med. Hmmmm.... I guess that is impossible. And here I sit and type, knowing that no one would really know if I died, no one would really care if something truly dreadful happened to me, that they may say it but it is just words, and I wonder, "Why am I trying recovery?" None of my friends will enter my room. They say it gives off an auora of sickness. Of death. Because that is where I spent most of my time not dead, not alive, dying. Dimstar. I am getting it tattood on my shoulder blade. I am not who I want to be, I am not who I used to be. I suppose it should be Fallenstar. And I keep on falling. 9:48 a.m. - 2003-08-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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