I love Abandoned Pools. They are kickass.

I have been in the oddest of moods recently. Rachel has left the emotional rollercoaster and boarded the S.S.Saint Joy. Be warned, the weather looks bad and the sea is choppy. Expect rapidfire turbulence (haha, airplanes).

S'better than rollercoasters though. *shrugs* They were pretty crappy ones. Most of them just flatlined at the bottom. PMS is a bitch. 'Specially when it's badly mistimed. My uterus lacks ketchup. Well, it does, but it's still in a solid form (somehow-- I really don't want to know how one can solidify ketchup) and has yet to jellify.

Oh, but I have made progress since I last whinged in here. I have finally accepted the fact that, out of a whole list of people I know, I am so far down I almost don't exist. Mostly it's just stuff about, y'know, my hobbies, my dislikes, my feelings about things, girl/guy stuff. It's okay, now. I mean, why really bother looking for myself? I don't need to know who I am. Just have my memory and I'll be okay.

I've been pretty down regarding social stuff... but it's crap, really, just insecure whining. Nothing new. I'm close on giving up on trying to be social, as I am really, really shit at it. Hell, I annoy myself.

I have badly misplaced anger. I would very much like to have anger counseling (no, seriously) so I refrain from exploding at friends. I don't enjoy getting angry at friends and it gives me the greatest sense of guilt, that I just shot off my temper at this completely unincluded person. I apologized profusely to Alice this short break about it. Luckily she didn't seem to notice, though I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or no. Methinks my fault is, not only am I short-tempered, but I am also a flaming pessimist. I tackle one, my life looks much better. I don't have time to tackle it though, so, meh.

Man, I cannot believe some of the lies I've been hearing spurt out of my mouth! It's incredible. Worse yet is that people believe me. I'm such a terribly good liar! I should be a lawyer, mayhaps. Have any of you seen the thing with Carrey; Liar Liar, I believe it's called?

I'm starting to believe there's no such thing as romantic love. Just platonic, and the odd flare of mad crushingness. I can always tell whether I'm crushing on someone or whether I actually love them-- if I have a crush, I can stop it. Easily. I tell myself constantly that I hate them, and the crush dies. Love... well, okay, truth be told, I've never been, really. So meh. Platonicism's with my family though, dur. My immediate family; the others aren't really that important to me, save for perhaps Auntie Julie, even though she doesn't like me anymore now that I'm big and ugly and fat and unfunny. I cannot love my friends. People say, "I love so and so", but I can't. Not much to love, really. I'm a really horrible person; I use people. I'll say it louder: I USE PEOPLE. I'll admit it. I've even more so than others, I'd go so far to say. Hope that turns all friends off from me.

Come to think about it... doesn't everyone, to an extent? I mean, once a friend turns PMSy, nobody cares about them anymore. There's no, "What's wrong?", and if there is and the person says nothing, nobody asks if they wanna talk about it. (To be fair though, if someone asked me that I'd politely tell them to piss off.)

I have been fighting the strangest urge these past few weeks. Not to die, not so extreme, but to draw butterflies on my arms with pins. Not really 'urge', more like 'fantasy'. Please don't tell me it's stupid, it is. 'Tis why I haven't done it. :) It's not something to be proud of, I'm just saying it's not like I'm one of those "OMGZ I'M SO DEPRESZED WNA CUT NOW" people.

My knee is humping the table. WANK IT LIKE IT'S HOT.