shittalky in milwaukee
Friday, Jan. 18, 2008   8:15 pm

my heart is broken. permanantly. that is what i have come to discover in the month that ive not written here.

i dont know when it broke forever, but i just know it is. i am only a shell of the person i once was, or couldve been.

not just in a love sense-my heart-but in a life sense. maybe its me, not my heart, thats broken. fine.

i am broken. but ive said that before. i suppose that each time i say it i mean it. but i never mean it more than at the exact moment i am saying it. but its trua at all given moments. im broken and ive yet to be fixed. which kind of brings me to my point this evening.

im at work right now. theres a bible study going on. im the maid and they praise god. once theyve finished their meals, they begin singing and lecturing and i get to retire to the back for 2 hours.

before the eating i was talking to a nice kid. i never take anyone here too seriously because i know that theyre somewhat religious, but he was just nice. then i find out hes the singer/guitar player. so, i was just watching him for a bit.

he feels. he believes what he is singing. im afraid that i could be coaxed into christianity right now if i dont find me again. thats how weak and broken i am. to have anything to hold faith in, ill take it-and with open arms.

thats not me. but i feel so hopeless lately...

i dont feel anything but shame and pity for jordan. myself. thats not right!

i am in a horrible place. and i dont know quite how to get out right now.

i have a problem. its been alright the last 2 days, but every day for a week before that...

i look at myself in the mirror...and i punch myself in the face. why?! i wish i could explain. it gives me a vague satisfaction. im a horrible person, but no one will tell me that. so, i tell myself. with my knuckles. idk. maybe im waiting for blood or a black eye. im not sure.

i like to watch myself get punched. but i draw greater satisfaction in the shower, where i cant see my hand approaching my face. that way i cant regulate the speed and angle. i just find contact. and when it hurts it doesnt hurt so bad and it leaves me wanting more.

its better than cutting because i havent bruised yet and theres no wrists to cover up.

but its not good. no matter what. i dont even know where it came from. i just looked myself in the mirror and felt i deserved a punch. i did. i do.

im so scared. but i dont think about it. but i am. where am i going to be? why do i have to be something? someone? why cant i live my life forever here, at offerdahls, in fort lauderdale and be content?

because my heart wants more and knows it deserves more! thats the answer i should be feeding myself. ha. should. what the fuck do i know about should. ive never done a single thing i shouldve in my life.

please! someone answer me! what SHOULD i do? no, dont tell me that, i wont do it.

what can i even do?

why do i need someone else to tell me?! because i am weak and dont know how to get dressed on my own.

ok, this is how weak ive gotten. i can talk shit to MYself and believe it.

im fucked.