I feel terribly lonely lately. As much as I find myself wanting to push certain people away in my life, I also find myself missing and longing to speak to them or be around them. I realize that I indirectly use people. I don't mean to, really, but I think in a way I do. I use them to fill in my loneliness, to make an attempt to fill up this void inside of me. I believe that I know what would fill that void, but the more I realize this the less I want it. I wish I never would have realized this, and then I could just keep searching and stop thinking. I want to feel like I did in Arkansas. When I didn't have to care about how I looked or was received, where I was accepted and loved, where I was called Kathlynn. Joel spoke to me and admitted he treated me like shit this past summer. It felt nice to know he's stopped blaming me, but part of me is still very unsure if this is water I wish to venture through. I feel so very fickle and unhappy. I wish I didn't feel so lonely. It really stinks when you're very best childhood friend lives very far away, and your very best friend lives even farther. I don't really like any of my friends anymore. They really don't interest me in any way. I don't wish to hear anymore complaints about they're perfect lives. I don't wish to listen to them speak in they're shrill voices. I was making one really good friend, but then her best friend moved back to school and well, that's gone now. I can't blame her though. If my best friend moved here I'd probably not be as close with her either. I'm beginning to see that the reason James and I are even friends is only because of our mutual hatred for everyone. Our whole friendship is based upon talking shit and making jokes. He wants to go to Iraq someday, to see what it's really like. He's growing his beard for No shave November, he has blonde hair but his beard turns a little red, he looks silly with it. He is very handsome, but his beard is very silly. I don't think I've learned a single thing this year. Mostly I just glare out at people, turn the volume down, and dream about stars and people that live far away. I don't want anyone to talk to me. I mostly just want to sit up in the dungeon and watch depressing indie films about people and nothing else. Some days I just don't have the strength for the subtle complexities of human interactions. Quote of the Day" ~"“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”~ --Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

What's the point? What is the point of living? It doesn't matter how we live; selfishly, happily, angrily, selflessly, horribly, it really doesn't matter. We all die in the end. I may save mankind, but I will never be able to save myself from the inevitable. I want meaning, I want purpose, I want passion...where did all my passion go? What happened to my will to fight, to breathe, to bare my pain with a smile upon my face? All I do is scowl and cry. I'm bitter and angry. People, they love my wit, it's hysterical. I'm only really witty when I'm angry though. I have a tongue that was made for lashings, but sometimes I wish it would just fall out. Somewhere between Quantum Mechanics and General Relativity we missed something, but all we talk about is strings that we can't even see and formulas that only make sense in a hypothetical world. Funds, where are all the funds going? Is that what a mathematician does for a living? I wonder what it would be like to get sucked into a black hole (passed of course, the extreme pain.) You're body being ripped to pieces starting with part nearest to the black hole while the rest just sort of chills out. Maybe a black hole leads to the other side, the afterlife. After all, you can go in but you can never come out. I'm such a mediocre and boring person. I'm really not one for entertaining and my conversations are only so enjoyable. I realized I've made friends with yet another senior who will just leave again. He says he'll come back for Thanksgiving and see me, I hope so. Sometimes I feel there's a...tension...but I feel a lot of things. The room is just spinning, and spinning, and tilting in all directions. I close my eyes at night and it's as though my bed is laying upon a dizzy top. My doctor said it was hormones, just like my appetite problem, my weird weight, and my heart palpitations. I must have a lot of hormones, they must all really hate me too. Whatever I did, I'm sorry hormones, can you please make the dizzy top stop? I keep ending these with apologies. I feel like I'm letting people down, or maybe it's just myself. I'm realizing that as the anxiety is dissipating I'm forced with who I really am. Anxiety left and now I see this girl named Kathlynn, she is blonde and boring, she is worrisome and angry, she doesn't know where to go and she feels like giving up, she likes music and art, she writes mediocre stories, and she can't really play the piano. I don't really like Kathlynn very much... I've been trying to change her my whole life though. Shape her into something great, something interesting, but she always just goes back to her original awkward, pigeon toed state. Her cautious eyes never lose their tinge of sadness, I feel sorry for everyone who has too look into them. Quote of the Day: ~"When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it happened or not."~ --Mark Twain

My therapy homework was to feel. Ever since I was little I was trained not feel, and especially not to express it. Through this it seems that I have become excellent at exploiting fake emotions and going on cues in conversations instead of what is happening in my head. There's this huge thought process to what I can and can't say. So, in a way, I'm cutting out the middle man. He was never really very nice anyway. It's hard to accept these emotions and feelings. I haven't done it in so long. Sometimes I wish that we could all say those honest words we can't afford. Then we could be open and not have to hide how we feel. I guess that would make things hurtful in ways though. Sometimes I feel like my life is made up of waiting. Waiting to speak, waiting to see, waiting for tomorrow, waiting to redeem myself. All I want to do is help those I love, but I feel so helpless and inadequate. I really do feel like that line from Guernica 'If I could I would shrink myself, sink through your skin to your blood cells, remove what ever makes you hurt, but I am too weak to be your cure.' My chemistry teacher, who knows all that has gone recently, told me he was really proud of me the other morning. I wish I could feel like I deserve such praise. I wish I could feel less angry at myself and less empty. I wish I wish I wish, isn't that right? There wasn't a reply though. Oh well. Some questions may be better left unanswered, or at least that's what I've always heard anyway. I gave blood a couple of days ago. It makes me feel good to know I'm helping someone I will never meet or know. I can get over my fears for that. There's so much more I want to say, but I just don't know how to. I'm sorry, I really am, I wish I could be better and more helpful. I never meant to be this person, or this lack of one. I feel so lost again. I just want to see the light, haven't I been patient enough? Quote of the Day: "In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." --Martin Luther King, Jr.

So much has happened since that last update. I don't know if I have the energy to even explain, or if I just want to leave it hidden in Bubba (my real journal.) I've been in therapy for about a month now I suppose. I've been feeling better lately, so maybe it's working. She's hinted I have severe depression with psychotic behaviors. It sounds a lot cooler than it really is. I got really confused for a while and decided to kill myself, but I didn't. I told Camden about it instead, knowing that if I told someone I wouldn't do it. I still wanted to, everyday, every hour, every second I thought about how to do it, and when. Night, day, morning, weekend, weekday. It makes me feel sick to think about it now. My stomach pains and I want to cry, I feel so guilty. I was so selfish. The scent of cinnamon and Camden's voice kept me alive. I could never thank him enough. I got really confused a while ago again, I wasn't sure what or whom I wanted in my life anymore. That sort of fixed itself I guess. "Ik denk dat ik verliefd op je, het spijt me." I wish it would stop haunting me. It's in my drawings, and my writing, and my thoughts. It's getting better, I'm getting better, I'm going to be better. Camden said I'm not broken, that made me feel nice. He says nice things. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling better and how life is better, and how the sun shines even though it's cold outside, and now I'm feeling scattered and low, and forgotten, and sad. I'm so afraid of dying again. Of forever, and of ending. I wish I just had an answer, even if it wasn't a right answer, just an answer, or a wish, or something to make me sleep at night. Sometimes I wonder if I should be on medicince, but Todd says I shouldn't, and I believe him. I have this dream where there's nothing but this scene that has a road stretched out in front of me, it curves slightly to the right, and at the end I can see the most beautifully fanned out tree I've lain my eyes upon. It is perfect. Even though it's breathtaking and fascinating, I know what it means, it means the end, it means death, it means I'm over. I stand there frozen, afraid to look at it, and afraid to look away. A wind pushes me forth, and though my feet aren't moving I gravitate toward the tree until it's high above me, like a looming skyscraper, it's branches entice me to climb, but I'm frozen and trembling, tears run smoothly down my face. I breathe in, but my throat is closed. I wake up afraid, usually staring at the ceiling, afraid to look around because I know I'll see something from the corner of my eye. I grab for one of two things; Blue the stuffed dog I sleep with or Dar beside me. Sometimes I grab nothing and I lay there, terrified, until tiredness takes over and pulls me back into the abyss of my subconscious. Sometimes I wish you hadn't said those things, expressed those thoughts, and shared those feelings. However, it has brought me so much relief to know, I just wish I could make decisions better, and that I thought more clearly. I hope you fall deeply in love and forget me and this fickle heart residing in this chest of mine. I got this fortune that read; 'you will make many changes before settling down.' My fortunes always come true, it's very creepy and almost never failing. I received this fortune, and side glanced to the right of me, at Dar, my heart ached and I hoped he wasn't the change, but then another part of me did because I thought of someone else. I felt guilty and like shit. I didn't talk much after that. I'm sorry to everyone I have failed and everyone I will eventually fail. I wish I wasn't such a crappy friend, and that I could have made him feel better. I wish I could not think so much and feel better about things. I wish I could stop this horrid hilly climb of emotions. It feels as though I'm walking through a dark forest, and I finally find the light, but at that very second I fall into a puddle 100 feet deep, and I'm emerged in muddy,dark, cold water where I'm confused and afraid. I just want to stay in the light where I can dry and nurse my frightened mind. This is getting long and I'm beginning to ramble. Quote of the Day: ~"“The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not rest until it has gained a hearing” --Sigmund Freud I really wish the growing tuft of soft cotton would cease to exist inside my seemingly empty cage of ribs. It feels as though I'm the main character in a Michel Gondry film, and my insides are his playing area for creating odd materials dance as in a stop-motion animation film.