currently: bored/tired/pouty

*listening to Wolfsheim's Kunstliche Welten*

Got class in a couple of hours. I just barely finished reading the Aeneid. Up to book IV, anyway. Start Ovid next. How thrilling. I still have to come up with a half-ass poem by 3:30. Forced poetry is shit. I think that's fairly obvious to everyone. Nevertheless, I'll come up with something.

The scars on my left arm are finally starting to pinken and fade. I hadn't cut in so long... then a little moment of hysterical distress made me grip an x-acto blade and slice and slice and slice. Meanwhile, music was holding me on my feet. The glow of my monitor lighting each bead of blood as it rose and dried. That was about 3 weeks ago, I think. I'm much better than I used to be. I wonder if I can even count the fine scars up and down my arms and legs. As my youth dries up, I suppose my old habits should, as well. But what will I replace it with to dim the noise in my head? What will neutralize the internal pain and self-loathing?

In the last week, I've decided to give in to all the thoughts I stopped myself from having before. I just go with them and see where they lead. I taste the taboo and lick the sweet stickiness of Evil from the back of my eyes. Try it sometime, it's very very delightful... and disconcerting. Thinking about the things you want to think about the least is like walking around in public with your fly open. You never ever want to do it, WOULD NEVER do it, feel like an ass when you discover it, and don't give a shit if you never knew it.

Time takes a cigarette and puts it in your mouth~David Bowie

Many times, we feel guilty when we think about things we shouldn't or things that are useless. Like being with someone or winning the lottery or how we'll die, among other things.
Do thinking these things damage us? I'm beginning to see that they don't. I'm sick of pretending to be satisfied.