Good GOD man

THE REAL WORLD IS A TERRIBLE PLACE!

No I don't usually scream at the beginning of conversation.
For those of you who have just fell screaming from a five story building and happened to land on this
page, go away. Falling that distance, your going to need hospitalization.

The rest of you are asking yourselves why your looking at this miserable little boy's page. Again!
Well a lot of you may think I ran away from deviant art and joined the enemy (Sheezy art). The
truth is that I actually severed all form of communication via my computer to the world. Excluding
the odd game and movies, the computer i used was not used for the internet at all. Messenger was
used once under my name, and against my will. I had been depressed so many times that I had
turned from the net and gotten myself a life with an entirely offline crowd.

But the real world has many more problems. Boredom and heartache have hit me more then most
others. Depression would be a great thing now, but there's simply no time for it. Instead of sitting
on my own and drowning myself in the greatest media cesspool of the world, I've taken everything
head on with an awful result. I believe that I have now become more passive then the air that flows
between either cochlea. Every hit of depression that I've sustained has simply resulted in a more
passive outlook on life.

As some may know, I have the memory of a gnat. Though with this memory of mine, I believe I
have enough to say that I have once again changed as a person.

Today felt like life as per the norm. My ears had only just yesterday been pierced along with my
brow. My day had been mostly spent lying in the sun on my woollen chord jacket beside someone I
was very much fond of. That preceding day just so happened to be the birthday of the girl that lay
next to me at the park. I had woken this morn to the site of a few happy faces and soon to be
finished liquor. For the first time in many a night I'm going to sleep in an empty room. Just as I had
finished a patch up with my mother about her disagreement with my choice in placement for facial
jewellery I stumbled into my room and surprised myself (the word "Just" makes this sentence FEEL
like it should be smaller). I'd picked a pillow up from off the floor, lit a couple of incense sticks and
was about to fall onto the closest bed when I realized what I had been doing. I had picked up my
pillow and was hugging it. It was probably the fact of realizing how badly I had desired a hug, or
passably realizing my realization that caused it. My mind had suddenly woken to the actions and
occurrences of the last few days. As though hit by a lightning bolt my insides were on fire with all the
emotion one would get from realizing that they existed.
At that moment I remembered what I had lost and turned to it so that I could vent. Hindsight these
journals aren't the best way to vent but there was nowhere else to turn. My pillow is still in my
arms.

I still harbour a vicious hatred towards the mechanics of relationships of lust and love, but I'll keep
that one to my self.

[Less then three]