Eight Hundred & Twenty Nine

Theme: Sex

I don't think I ever actually want it ever again. I just don't trust people enough to touch me. My memories of it are just horrendous and I've never actually had a "normal" time. They've always been completely heartbreaking in one way or another. Why would I put myself through all that crap again? Whenever I've done it in the past, the people I've done it with, either completely blanked me after or just generally got rid of me. What is it about me that me that makes people think it's acceptable to hurt me? I just can't get intimate with someone because I just know they will leave me. I don't have the energy to pick myself back up anymore. I don't want to be around myself. I'm scared. People have royally screwed me up over my lifetime and all I want to do is just run of and leave, start new but you can never run from yourself. I wonder if this was meant to happen, if this was meant to be my life's path. I would really like to be put on a different path now. A path where people don't use me to get back at others, a path where I'm not hating myself for other peoples actions. I generally can't stand the human race. A majority of people are all out for themselves, not caring who they stamp on. I want nothing to do with sex. If you have a bad time every single time you do something, your not going to want to do it. I don't want to let people in emotionally either. I know I'm lonely. There's a little secret I have that basically bolds the fact that I'm lonely, but the more I indulge myself in it the less lonely I feel. So what am I to do?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Four Hundred & Forty

Theme: Ex I was looking through photo's of my ex today on her tumblr, I know this all sounds creepy. I was just going through my blocked list and I saw her there. So I thought what's the harm in checking it out? There was lot's of harm. I can't un-see some of the shit she's posted. The pictures, I've seen the poor girl naked more time's than I've seen her clothed. That's generally not a good sign. It's a sorrowful sight really. I'm not saying she's unattractive, I'm just saying she's a slut, with very little self-respect. Or maybe that's me just being old-fashioned? I know this whole blog sound's like I miss her and I'm just bitter about the break up, but I'm really not. She goes through girlfriend's like I go through Emile Hirsch pictures. I couldn't even try to name all the relationship's she's been in, and I know for a fact, she couldn't either. She's the sort of person you look at a...
Read more

Twenty Four

Theme: Feminism. I'm not a feminist. However, I do think that women are sometime's viewed as "less" then a man is. The main reason I am not a feminist is because of thing's such as domestic violence. If I say domestic violence to most people, they would think of a male beating a female. However, in some cases it is female beating male. I think it would also be harder for male's to talk about as it is less common. There are many supportive groups for females who have been through domestic violence, but there are few for males. I also feel that it is harder for males to express their emotions. Mainly because in today's society you have to live up to this stereotype of being a tough guy. Your a wuss if you express your emotions. When it come's down to it, we are all human and we all have the right to express how we feel. Although depression is more common in females, it's more common for the male to commit suicide. It is also more likely for men to...
Read more

Four Hundred & Eighty Four

Theme: Ex's. Coming back from the Job Centre today and I bumped into 'it'. The ex I was talking about in this entry. I would have preferred not to see it to be fair. We didn't stop and talk, I wouldn't have wanted to either, I would have walked straight past her as if I didn't know who she was and like she never even existed, just like I do with all of my ex's. She was talking on the phone and she was wearing some of the most ridiculas thing's. She was wearing this big leopard print coat, the sort that hooker's wear. We both locked eyes and she knew it was me. I just know she knew. She also know's I know it was her. The next few word's that came out of her mouth was just pure jibba jabba, almost as if she was literally stunned to see me. I just carried on walking. Even if I was walking on mother fucking sunshine I wouldn't want to talk to that thing. I'm not friend's with any of my ex's. Apart from this one who will be ...
Read more