12/29/07

i find, mostly, that I have nothing to say.  My very thoughts are constrained by a language that simply does not have the words I need.

My disdain for myself is overwhelming.

Christmas has passed.  Again.  another year over, etc.  Whatever.  Time never ceases moving.

"And all I can think of are ways to die alone."  Being pathetic is my forte.  My self loathing is matched only by my self-centeredness.  Self hate is self obsession, and I am guilty as charged.  I have no use for everyone outside, they are accessories to a life that I can live entirely alone.  And I will.

I find myself to be uninteresting and every day is one closer to the day I lay down and quit.