But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Silently Falling Apart I feel nothing. Numb. But if I was able to feel something it would be too strong for me to handle. I know this. I have mandatory Atavan, three times a day. I feel so sad, yet really I feel nothing. I have done nothing. I have not written in my journal, talked on the phone, or written any letters. For this I feel terrible. I want to, yet something holds me back. I cannot escape this prison in my mind that will not allow me to do anything but nothing. I want to escape. I feel that everyone knows. And here everyone does know. I am dirty, raw, exposed. My layers of flesh have been scraped off, exposing beneath a terrible human being, full of evil, up to no good. They say it isn't my fault, yet they are revolted by it. But the revolsion has to have a blame. They say it is on the people who did what they did to me... But to blame someone else... I cannot blame anyone else for what has happenned in my life. I can do nothing. I cannot fast, I cannot purge, I cannot stay in my room and sleep all day, I cannot refuse groups.... I cannot cause anything out of the ordinary. I cannot be a disturbance. I want to sit in a corner, in the dark, frozen, and turn to stone. Slowly. I want the world around me to dissappear. To make me a statue that will turn to dust.
9:38 p.m. - 2004-06-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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