Hello again, to the few, if any, tangible peoples who will be reading this . . . . I hope life, and the holiday season, are going well enough for you all . . . . they have certainly been horrible for me. I have had so much work, between my various school courses and on-line courses that I have barely had any stress-free time to myself lately . . . . all of the work I must do is constantly floating around at the edge of my mind, much like some infernal 'traffic ahead' sign. I have just two weeks to complete these online courses, along with an entire list of tedious tasks, and I am stressing out big time. Life has pretty much been shit since my birthday, on the 31st of October. I have been so anxious and distressed lately that I have relapsed, and started cutting myself again, about every other day now. I have never actually cut this much in the past . . . this is entirely new territory in self-harm for me. For the most part, the cuts occur on my upper thighs, one of the areas of my body that I hate the most. In a twisted way, my thighs almost look better covered in scars and scabbed streaks. In other news, I don't think I am going to enjoy Yule this year. I am visiting my family in Arizona, including my beloved siblings and my cousin, aunts, uncles, and my grandmother, father, and stepmother. Despite the fact that I look forward to seeing them, I just don't feel in the festive/holiday spirit. I honestly feel like laying about in bed, hiding away from the world, possibly crying, for several days straight. Or, better yet, I wish to be in a cozy cabin somewhere, down some rough dirt road, in the middle of an ancient forest, away from this demented cesspit we call society. I want to be with nature, I want to sit amongst the trees, proud and strong, and I want to run in flowing fields and grasses. I want to be curled up in a secluded cabin, reading a novel and occasionally glancing out into the frozen wonderland that surrounds the lone establishment. Perhaps what I want most of all is to be loved, in the romantic sense. I want someone who can hold me when I feel black inside, a man who can tell me that I really am not a monster inside. I want someone to be with, someone to hold me, someone to walk with me. I am tired of being alone. I grow weary of sitting in silence at each meal because there is no one else, of sitting alone, silent and sodden, at restaurants and public spaces. The few friends I acquire all seem to leave me right as I am getting to trust and truly know them. Most of these friends turn out to be using me for their own petty self-interests, and in reality they don't give a damn about me. I want to walk down the street, confident in the fact that I am not alone, that it isn't just myself against the big wide universe. But I guess that just isn't what I get. I guess I just can't be loved. I have to walk my path, whatever it may be, cold and alone. Well, I hope people are having a better holiday season than I. Perhaps, by the time Spring roles in, I will be happier inside. I can only hope this is the case . . . . .