Eh. On hiatus. I should probably keep my thoughts private right now because it'd kill people to read them. They're that miserable.

P.s. Attempted suicide is a crime, apparently, so I should have been arrested thrice already. Hallelujah. Hail the Lord. This is where your "humanity" and "sanctity of life" have got me, blithering idiots. Don't talk about what you don't understand. Don't talk about me. You don't understand me. Neither do I. I don't think anyone ever will. Period.

World, I have one last thing for you which shall remain on the public domain. SHUT UP. You're driving me to distraction. May the soul of whoever invented the spoken word never rest in peace. Communication, my foot. I don't think I believe in communication any more. What I believe in is that I have a mind, I can think, I can defy Fate, and I'm sick and tired of you (one person in particular - screams ENTJ evangelist, doesn't it?) telling me otherwise. Go be emo, if you like. But I don't see why you should torment people because you are tormented. I don't see why hatred and rage should take over logic. I don't see why I should believe in things that no-one has proven true. Go be emo. Go do your punk rock or whatever. Just, for the sake of whatever supernatural power you believe in, leave me alone. I want to be ignored. You ignore people a lot. Put the skill to use. As far as you're concerned, I don't exist. To most of you, I never did anyway. Not me. What you saw - the words, the smiles, the feelings - they were a charade for your benefit. And the charade will continue, because I keep my emotions to myself. I'm not proud of them, and I don't think I should be, because most of what I feel is hatred and apathy. Three-quarters of the rest is derision. The last little morsel is pure love, reserved for a select few who rarely get anything else out of me. I think they know who they are.

Just this last shout, and I'll wipe myself off the face of cyberspace. As far as you're concerned, I don't exist. As far as you're concerned, this weblog is a charade for your benefit. Only I would know better, and I do know better. But I think I'll play the charade. It's an act. When you act, you know, you don't let your emotions take over. Protocol. It's much more comfortable that way.

Good night, hopefully forever.

Aerin