New year. I'm not making note of it. It's an arbitrary designation. Dates and times have been becoming less important to me.
I had an epiphany recently. I have spent most of my life waiting to die. I've kept telling myself to hold on just a little longer, just a little further, anticipating rest around every corner.
But what if that's not the case? What if I have years and years left to live? Suddenly the world seems much more important to me.
I keep careful track of my subconscious. I have to. I need to understand my unspoken, unreasonable habits.
Deep down, I believe that I will not be given anything unless I do not ask for it. I believe that people do not want to be touched. I believe that sex is a kind of death.
Deep down, I am so full of hate.
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