Looking into her eyes, I realized something very strange. She looked as me although I had hurt her, but no words were coming out of her mouth. At that moment I was shocked to see a tear trickle down her cheek. We were animals, nothing more.

There are times when I write entries or respond to the general audience to analyze public opinion. There are very few people in this world who are both a frequent reader of my journal and a good friend of mine. The reason is really simple. I act much differently in public than I do in private. You're probably thinking, "What a bitch, he's just saying that he likes to cry a lot." Sometimes I wish it were that simple. I don't really know how to describe it any other way except that seriously, I'm a very fucked up person. Most everything I do has a reason behind it, something I can learn out of the experience. Say I'll start eye-ing a certain girl in class. Over time, she'll begin to notice me and either look back in disgust or return the favor. Of course I have no interest in this girl, I just want to learn how she will react. As the days go by, I'll develop a relationship with her, even intimate. Drink some Greygoose here. Eventually I'll break it off with her, playing it off as though none of it matters. I am the storyteller, I'm not part of the story. I live it, I create it, and I rape emotions other than my own. The fact of the matter is, I fucked her, and there was really nothing she could do about it.

We are animals. As much as you don't want to hear it, we are classified as such. We need air to breathe, and we need to feed off of other organisms to live. We leech off other people, and we leech off of their emotions. We desperately try to protect those that we love. It's human nature. We live and talk and shoot the bull and what happens? We go home, tired, wanting something more. Of course this is impossible, as there is nothing more to human life than negligence. Nobody knows each other deeply because whether you want to hear it or not, we are constantly changing. To say that one has a fixed personality is absurd. We change based on our environment. We cry because something has gone wrong. We get angry because someone said something bad about a friend. It isn't really a direct hatred towards the person in general, it's more like trying to comfort the person they hurt. I recorded this of course, in that goddamn black journal of mine.

The reason I write is simple. It's not to whine or complain about my own life, it's to show others that I know what the hell they're talking about. I don't care what you think about me, or my life, that's not why I write. I just want people to understand they're not alone, and that they shouldn't go through the shithole of life by themselves. I'm not going to take you out to a ball game or have a picnic with you or anything, but it's not like that would help. All I can do, is help you understand with my words. Do you finally get why I do this? If you don't, it's all right, I don't mind.

Why are we depressed? It's not because we're well nourished or because we have some fancy toys and a nice house. It's because our minds are distraught. We struggle with people and problems and fucking EMOTIONS that we just can't deal with sometimes. Our minds are controlling us. Of course one can be seriously depressed because they are malnourished or physically abused. However it is not the physical concrete action that disturbs us, it's our mental stress capacity about to explode. Why do people want relationships? Because they are lonely, and they feel if they have someone to hold or to be intimate with, some of that stress will alleviate from their souls.

I'm happy someone challenged my motives, whether they be younger than me or not. However, I'm kind of unhappy I wrote this because now I won't be able to have as much fun.

(Not included in my rough draft... you know, the one I'll be *publishing* in about seven or so months, but if anyone wants to chat, Aim: IndieGumby)

cya.

-george