2005-01-10, 9:53 a.m.
I wish I could take all my guestbook friends into my California world and hang out with me. The loneliness kills. Playing scrabble with a dad who never even smiles at the jokes I make, or going to Church with a brother who critizes ever aspect of my home church, isn't exactly making me happy.
I'm having dreams about suicide. I dream about someone telling me that after death, there is a hell, but don't worry it's not as bad as the life I'm living and I'm satisfied with that knowledge. Sometimes my mind trails for minutes picturing preparation, how I'll do it, the aftermath of my death. I feel fine about it. I had a dream last night my sister was helping my clean my room because it's a mess, and I was thinking in my dream that it was good she was helping me clean my room because I'll need to do that anyway before I kill myself.
Sometimes I pray elaborate prayers to a deaf God to take my soul, my life, my body, before I wake the next morning. By the time I wake up the next day I forget these prayers, but the next time I pray them I don't forget. I hate I'm still alive.
The rain is clearing today. I may go for a run before it starts again. I feel like the mass amount of fat free pudding I'm consuming is protuding on my thighs. I wish I was thinner for my appointment with Julio tomorrow. I wish I was a waft.
I want to disapear into nothing.