**Author’s Note**
I don’t know what this is saying, I just sat down to write and this is what came out. If you can figure out anything from this, lemme know, please?
Talking can say little, writing can’t tell much more. I wish I could write so freely again. I wish I had that capacity, but somewhere in my mind, I’ve locked it away. I won’t let myself write about what I want. That terrible fear is back. I wish I hadn’t let it come. I wish I hadn’t let her share my bed. I wish I had let well enough alone, but I’m feeling it again. I’m sick, lovely and in need of a stiff drink. And that’s the last thing I need right now is a drink. I lie to myself and imagine this is real because this is what I like the best. I haven’t decided if it will be good for me to see Ambra or not. Regardless of what I decide, I’m going to see her. I need to. I’m in quite the precarious position at the moment, struggling to make sense of what I feel and how to react to these emotions. The strangest part of what I feel is that I feel dirty. Why? I shouldn’t. This is honest. How screwy is it that I feel dirty about something honest? I suppose the purity has been perverted and I can’t feel good until it comes to pass that everything is settled. I need to talk to Ambra, she told me to call her, but I haven’t any money to do that. Jesus, why am I so poor? I don’t want to breathe, I’m so afraid that with one breath, this fairy tale I’ve created will be blown away. I want to be a child again. Not because I don’t want responsibility, that I want, but really, I just don’t like the world. I know that might sound so “teenage angst” but it is very true. I’m just tired of not understanding it. Whenever I feel as though I’m getting a grasp and comprehending something (anything), the rules change. Sorry, I’m not sure what’s going to happen to the site, may haps I’ll just let it gather dust or maybe this is just a few day down. Either way, what will be, will be. And I love you all, I’m just let down.
