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25/10/05

I lust for the intangible. It scares the shit outta me and so I covet it. I could never, for example, love a woman who didn't intimidate me. If she were to love me in return it would ruin everything. She'd be weak. I want a woman who I know is pretending. Then I will feel like a Big Man who has not catered to outside forces, to nature. I can't not want to defy these things. Love between lovers, if it exists, is a kind of resignation, a confession of weakness. I'd lose all respect, and I have, and I'm sorry. Maybe this is something like an overdue disclaimer. That kind of love is like winning an award from a ceremony you know is fixed. I could only love a woman who held a secret contempt for me. I could only love a woman better than me, who secretly let me win sometimes. I could never know, as long as I knew, y'know?

I want these same things from the world; I don't want it to favour me, I just want it to humour me. I want illusions. My only requirement is that they be honest. Does that even make sense? I don't ever want my illusions to become delusions; I just want something convincing enough to satisfy my subconscious. It seems to be acting up lately. I really am honestly thinking about talking to a psychiatrist. It shouldn't be this hard to just be fucking normal.

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16/10/05

*Checks pulse*

Yep... still a jerk. Maybe I should stop talking to the internet and start talking to a psychiatrist.

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