i want so badly to just break down but my body refuses, caught in that anguish when you feel as though just a few tears would make it all feel better… nothing feels quite right, just horrified at the ackwardness of the situation. i realized what i did not want to return to – running from my past only makes sense; and i am good at running from my past.

it is the only defense machanism that i seem to be able to handle… running, that is. it is what i understand how to do, and i know how to do it well. only space keeps me from that in this case. i cannot afford to run.

i returned this fall, intending for my future and finding my past. things done wrong, memories 2 3 and 4 there to remind me when i went wrong – and i did. only memory 1 is no longer here to protect me. i am back to memory three, living in it but partially distraught from the rest, the physical self, the actual presence. i am trying, partially through mental fantasy to come to terms with that part of me… and i am doing ok. if it wasn’t for memory four, who made memory two so abrupted and utterly recognizeably failed, forced into a gutter of pain and insensed to leave…

i am avoiding memory two and fearing failure, utter inability to create, concentrate, believe… everyone i know is from that memory and it half terrifies me to find their presence in my path. see, most are curtious if not kind, but the few who horrify me create so much pain and agony in my heart

only tonite, along with my current housemates, i went to see a member of memory two who recognized me in kindness. my first “friend” in memory two has been treating me with such kindness and closeness now that we are together in a physical space. along with a new friend, i danced and enjoyed new attempts to meet people and make new friends along with the pleasures of a pleasant environment, only it took me effort not to reach a level of cockiness that makes me uncoftable and unpleasant, distracted by a life i could have had. only i don’t. a friend from last year

afterwards, in a good mode with my new friend, we came home only for our cat to run into the street, forcing me to switch into the mood that i can barely stand – that mode of bossyness to “solve” a situation of little impotance and longevity. i felt stupid and offered mint milanos over this situation, not wanting to foul up a potential friendship. we headed to a party of people from memory three and things first appeared ok.. but then they were not. i found myself showing off regarding memory two, as though i remembered everything and forgot it all… it stung like a bee.

and then memory four stood out, shuddering my entire body into uttter pain and discomfort. i tried to first ignore and then i got the courage to actually approach her, asking how she was, only to receive the cold shudder that i had earned by visiting memory three just the other day. and it hurt. i tried to last it out until she blantantly faced her back towards me, blocking me out of her sight, reminding me that i made a mistake. only to realize that she has made me discomfortable in memory three, by something as soo simple as talking to other people, sharing her discomfort. only a short while ago in the pleasant place did i explain to my new friend that i made a mistake and that i utterly hurt person four. that stung like a harsh bee and i cringed. this made me want to leave but i ended up buying kind and aim me for home, running away once again.

now at home i just cringe and feel aweful, recognize the mistakes that i made and the things that make me realize that i made mistakes, many mistakes. and now i at home sitting by my computer which i feel guilty from using person one into purchasing..

i realized that i don’t like myself at all. i like getting to know people that i vaguely know, through people i barely know in order to make certain that when thigns go wrong i will have a way of hurting myself. that makes me cringe and scream in confusion. why do i run? why can’t i find happiness in the simple things? why does smoking seem to be my response to life, addiction, habit, frustration. and i talk to my family in a bored tone, uninterested in actually talking, feeling forced and pressured which makes me feel worse. i feel like i should realize that my family is not what i discribe them to be.

i have a fantasy world because my real world saddens me.

and that makes me feel terrible… as though i will never be capable of actually finding peace and happiness, the way i always imagined it should be. how i long to be different, in a way i can barely accept in myself. and what makes me feel worse is that i cannot determine if i am becoming everything she told me that i would be come by accident or by following the pattern of life she suggested and led me down so many years ago, as though i feel this obligation in lieu of a feeling of genuine desre. and that makes me feel like a hypocrite and horrid human being. only that was my mistake prior to this “move” in my life. i just want to be happy and i don’t know how so i repeat the same mistakes that failed before, as though i was engrained to do so.

but what can i do? i have spent my life dependent on my family until i found person one…. and then i rearranged my situation to be dependent on him the way i promise that i will never be. how i long for simplicity and honest strenght. i eat people and spit them out in the form of strength, a pure indicator of an evil person. and that i am.

oh, if only i could actually cry