what if my own skin makes my skin crawl?

vie been dreaming a lot lately. i think that it is because of my cough, constantly jerking me out of REM. you are always in them, in some form or another. i don't think you are a giver or receiver and so i think this must just be what you represent to me. but what is that?

in one of my most recent dreams i shaved my chest and arms, long strips of hair/ skin. it was as close to a nightmare as i could get without actually touching it.

i thought that i could obtain your heart. but why?

i decided to really push/ pursue - i think this was my first mistake.

the hormones making my mind crazy decided you were the perfect man. - nice hair, pretty eyes, large nose, thin upper lip, smart, funny, quick.

your lack of conceit ( no, immense desperation?) - made me believe that you might be able to love a monster like me.

but is that even true? can i truly love myself if i can see how some/ most could not?

it is all so confusing. i find my current hormonally stable self to be disgusted with you. mostly.

because while you may have most of the package there are a few lacking qualities.

i need someone who is willing to talk to me. - i think this goes hand in hand with someone who is actually also into me.

i need someone who understands my crazy. - who knows if this will ever exist.

so can i lock you away in my mind? can i not be embarrassed if i ever run into you? because most of the embarrass will be my horrible failure to get your clothes off. and that others might know of the ass i have made of myself.

and can i please figure out why you are still in my dreams? because i am 29 now, and i still feel like the heart part of my mind is 16.

maybe this vacation i will start drinking. and i will start loving and i will stop caring, but not when people need me to care.

its cold and i just want a human sized cat to keep me warm, and not eat my head.

you could be happy.

we live a debaucherous life. of parties and drinking. i don't participate. the insanity is too much. if i lose control it will be all down hill. if i lose control people will be hurt, i will be hurt. i was angry in highs chool, but thats not true. i was angry at home.

she's better with over 5 months sober, but how long will it last? i cant keep my heart open anymore. im sick of wanting to believe. i was looking through my fb friends truing to find friend suggestions. i realized that she didn't know half of the people in my life anymore. it was a hard realization. truth brought to you by facebook. so i sit at home, neglecting my reading, neglecting my life. what do i have to show for it? well i don't act a fool except on my own terms. i told myself no more sarcastically racist jokes and tonight i couldn't stop the drivel from spewing out of my mouth. everyone laughs, but how old must it seem by now, the broad generalizations and that's what she saids.

what i really wanted i couldn't have and that was him. holding my hand. the dream within a dream. standing us against the world.

is this a secret blog now? now that it is connected to my old email address? noone read this anyways.

why do i only write in this when i am sad and depressed? when i have noone else to talk to.

is this the age when everyone pairs of and noone loves me best because i don't let them? because i don't love myself?

soothe

i had an amazing dream last night. well to clarify it was a dream that i had in a dream. it was perfect just like in 8th grade, there were kisses and hand holding and love. it was a dream where i woke up in the dream and remembered it was real. then i woke up in reality and realized it wasn't. what about my unconscious has decided that i can only process these feelings in a dream within a dream. are my walls that high?

when you took my hand as we faced the horrors that were closing in upon us i felt at peace and happy and safe. and waking up to the bright sunlight blinding my sleepy eyes it took me a while to realize that what i had believed so fully in my heart, that i was wanted and treasured for myself, was not true.

this of course has just reaffirmed my stance that good dreams suck because when you wake up and they arent true your life is just that much more hollow.