I Am No Cunt.

It’s still a touchy subject, her. I don’t know why, but I can’t even talk to her on the phone, I get so angry. She’s just so…I don’t like using dot-dot-dots like I used to, I haven’t used them in a long time, but she makes me, she gives me the dot-dot-dots…

She’s like wine, or beer. And I see everyone around me drinking her up, woo so fun, tipsy. Buzzed.

And I did it once before, and it wasn’t so bad. The drinking, the getting buzzed.

But I do it now, it’s literally… –

It’s a touchy subject.

(I just spit her up! I can’t swallow it!)

I think if we are eachother’s halves, for me it’s like magnets, and we’re both a kind of North, and it’s just Pushing Away.

I’ve changed, you know. Because of her, because of me. I am so interested now in not being a pussy.

At least she gave me that. I have all this hate and aggression left over, I don’t know why, but at least she gave me that.