Into the veins.

Today…was a good day.  I think.  I’m not sure. 

I went to visit some of my old teachers today.  They were all happy to see me.  They all knew my name.  They all cared about how school was going for me now.  They all cared.

Have I sunk so low that I need people to care?  Have I become that dependant?  That needy? 

Human contact has NEVER felt good to me.  I don’t like to socialize.  I don’t like to talk.  I don’t give or take hugs.  Needing interaction has always struck me as odd.  But maybe…

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe there is something out there worth having.

No.  There’s not.

I could write this in the form of a bad poem.  I could post it in some circle to whore myself out for notes.  Because, you know what?  I like getting notes.  And that scares me.  I’ve seen this coming.  When I started writing in this, and I got notes, I liked it.  I liked the attention.  And soon, I’m going to be an attention whoring, badly spelling, dumbass slut. 

It’s been getting worse, you know.  The human condition.  It’s been getting worse.  It’s like a bacterial infection that has grown resistant to antibiotics.  I can’t kill it anymore, and every day I grow more sentimental.  I miss people, I miss talking to people, I want people to notice me and that is simply NOT ACCEPTABLE.  I am becoming everything I swore I wouldn’t.  I am becoming everything I never wanted to be.  Why NOW?  Why THIS?

I would give anything to hate everyone again.

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