InsaneJournal

First Entry
I'm just here.... because I am... ^_^... I'm afraid you'll all have to be satisfied with that... I wonder if anyone will ever find this.

I guess I'm afraid of speaking to people who have read about me, or I would have put this, perhaps, where I was SURE it would be found.

Where would that be, anyway?

I don't think I'll show this to my friends and family. Doubtful. My friends probably already know it, and my family would forbid it.

I hate being cut off. I'll put peices of me in locations and places, then they'll be forbidden. And I can't do what I want to.

It's amazing, that, despite this, I still end up spoiled.

No, this isn't supposed to make sense.

I'm not a faithful writer...

Still there? (how tacky, I'm sure everyone writes that. But if you read this, then you've gotten this far. And I'm proud ^_^)

I think I'm afraid of people. I don't like people. I know I'm a person, but I don't really like myself. Is anyone ever afraid of people? I've been shut off, parts of me, and I don't have them, and I'm afraid.

I make friends. I am forbidden to speak to them, I must break all contact.

I miss them. A lot.

I'm very afraid of people. Maybe especially myself.

People should be afraid of me, too, I think, because when I'm cut off in places, whatever bit of me was severed is sort of like a demon. That was a bad simile, but that's as close as I can get.

I'm still not making sense. I don't care. Maybe I'll like this place. If so, I have to hide.

I'm not going to remember writing any of this.

I wish for love.

For me to love, or for the love of another?

People scare me.

I wish I had the power to remember. I wish I didn't get bored. I wish I was in one piece. I wish I could speak and have people understand me. I wish *I* could understand me.

I wonder if I'll write again. This was OK. I'm not sure what I wrote. Maybe I'll read it.

I'm not on drugs, though.