It’s so hard not to hurt myself, right now.  I just want to die.  I get as far as thinking about how, and the fact that I would need a sharper knife, or I would have to find the apparatus for sharpening knives (we have one somewhere).  I mean, if I wanted it badly enough, I could rip my arms open with one of the knives we’ve got, but why make it hurt more than necessary?  Why try to cut flesh with a bread knife?  It just seems…  antithetical…

"It’s summertime – and I can understand if you
Still feel – sad –
It’s summertime and though it’s hard to see its true
possibilities -"

I know I disappoint people.  People who wish I wasn’t so fragile, or so needy…  people who wish I could figure out what the hell I want…  people who want me to live up to my potential when all I can do right now is freeze up, like a deer in head lights…

When I was younger, and I was in love with a guy who’s pathology seemed a good fit with mine, he used to take advantage of my tendency to defer, and my need to please.  He knew I wanted his approval, so he held it back, the way you might tease a dog with a Milk Bone.  He got me to do things to prove I loved him – games only a sadist and a masochist would play, that would sound absolutely ape shit to anyone else.  I mean, it’s not lost on me, now, how messed up some of it was.  I loved this guy, as much as I had loved anyone, up to that point, in my life. 

But, he asked too much.  Maybe, it’s my fault for not saying, "no, man…  there’s the line, and you just crossed it."  I remember doing that once.  He was trying to…  I didn’t want to, and he wasn’t hearing me.  He wasn’t stepping out of that role…  that game-playing persona that was supposed to stay confined to a certain time and place…  he was actually…   it was real.  He was going to…  I tried to stop him from taking off my shirt, and he wouldn’t let me.  He said, really firmly, "don’t ever hide yourself from me," and he started kissing my neck.  He wasn’t going to stop.   I hit him in the face.  With my fist…  and, for a second…  I thought he was going to kill me. 

He shook me so hard for, for just a second or two, and then he got a hold of himself, and let go of me.  He stumbled away from me, and sat down, like I had really hurt him.  I knew I hadn’t.  He was much stronger than me.  My best shot was nothing to him.  He was just overwhelmed by the situation

He was the first person who ever excited me.  He was the one who made me realize what a freak I was.  He was also the one who made me realize that I am incredibly fragile, in a strange way.  I crave abuse, or the likeness of it, while I am intimate with someone, but I can’t just shift gears out of that place.  I can’t.  Whenever someone actually succeeded in turning me on (usually by playing into some sick fantasy), I would need to be gently coaxed out of that place, afterwards – softly guided back to the reailty of being safe.  I know, some people could never play those games.  And, I never hunted out lovers on that basis – I would just date, and when the time came, I would tryy to explain the way I was.  Most guys are down with saying a few f@cked up things if they get to f@ck you while they say it.  But, it’s all way too complex.  How could I ever expect anyone to get it right?  I am damaged goods.

I started thinking about killing myself around noon today, and then, around 1:30 or so, it started to seem like a really good idea.  I talk about it so much, I really should just put everyone out of my misery and get it over with.  Maybe I don’t have a sharp enough knife for the whole warm bath plan, but I could take a lot of pills, and wander into the lake.  But, that would be cold…  and, I hate the cold.  I wouldn’t want that to be the last thing I felt.  But, I am told you feel cold when you bleed to death, as well.  Oh well…  I guess, life is all about compromise – why should death be any different?

"When you look inside – all you’ll see
When you look inside – all you’ll see
Is a self-reflected inner sadness –
Look outside – I know that you’ll
Recognize it’s summertime
Look outside – I know that you’ll
Recognize it’s summertime"  ("Summertime," The Flaming Lips)