3:33 p.m. - Saturday, Mar. 26, 2005
Done
So, I did indeed get completely wrecked last week as promised. Beyond recognition. Actually, no, if someone were to recognize me for who I really am, it would probably be in that state, so that figure of speech doesn't aptly apply. Anyway, I was fucked up.
Then I hooked up with the child creature I was sleeping with for a while, even though I ended it with him a couple of weeks beforehand. He lives with my cousin, I crashed there after the show, I was drunk, he was there...the math is really simple.
What isn't as simple, however, is trying to understand why he raged out on me immediately afterwards like a hopped up primate. He was all, get the fuck out of my room, you think you can dump me and then do whatever you want, etc. etc. It was um, vivid.
So, has the leitmotif of my life begun to emerge in this journal yet? I sleep with hurtbags. I am attracted to filth and rage and imbalance. I choose horrible, messed up boys to fool around with, because I feel connected to them on some perverse level; they're like extreme versions of me. But an extreme version of me, with a bunch of extra testosterone is like, *too* extreme.
I haven't really had such a strango experience with a dude since I was 15. Regressing is such a great feeling. Really lets you know you're going to be aces, like, you're making something out of your weak miserable existence.
I totally give up.
