[This confession has meant nothing.] This is not an exit. (Part 2.)

Mood sad?
Wearing Wrangler jeans, steve jacket, REM tee & tie-dyed socks
Eating/Drinking water
Hearing Hans Zimmer & James Newton Howard - Vespertilio
Dreamt about can't remember.
Currently reading Max Allan Collins - Cold Burn
Present MSN name For I will wear my heart upon my sleeve for daws to peck at; I am not what I am.
Talking to Bone, Zippy & Kaling (everyone else has gone. I'm so sorry, Catdog...)
Last text from Bone
Word of the Day eternity

I'm here and I don't know why. I've just come back from my granparents' 'do' thingy that they do every year in celebration of their anniversary. I came home early cos I'm allergic to their bloody house and I'm sick to death of big family things atm (plus Daniel is there, and he shouldn't be. Damn him.)

Anyway, I'm all alone right now and I'm listening to classical soundtrack music stuff, which usually means I'm either working or is some sort of self-pitying mode. And, well, I'm not working...

I went to church this morning. It was okay, to be honest. It was good to see Bo' again. It feels like I haven't seen her in ages.

Saw Lemon too. I made sure I found out today whether Lemon fancies wee-Herry. It doesn't look like it. Though Lemon said that Herry enjoyed their hug a while ago. It took just about everything I had right then not to collapse laughing.

Also, Lemon is not getting any sweeter. Yes Bone, to answer your question, she is still sour.

I was talking to Una the other day and I found out some stuff about Jolene, Plo', Leggy & Herry.

Firstly, I hate Jolene and Leggy. Secondly, to wee-Herry, many many many hugs to you. And Plo'... well she's pretty much a closed book, but I didn't realise how little I kew about her until I started talking to Una. And really, it no woder why I can never find anything to say when I'm aroud her. To be honest, it may be a KRH-girly thing, cos I can't find much to say to any of the KRH girlies until there is one subject I know I'm safe on. I used to be alright with S-Diddly, but we don't talk at all anymore. Which I miss. In a way. And Herry... that's okay. But I get the feeling that that may be one of those things were if you leave it for more than a few weeks it'll go to pot too. That saddens me a bit, cos I like Herry.

Which is why it's so surprising about Una, cos I don't think we have that. I think with Una I could just pick it up where we left off. Which is cool.

Plus, I never used to like Una. So it's weird...

Herry's coming over on Tuesday. I'm looking forward to it, but I'm a bit worried that the conversation will go dry. I'd mention this to Herry, but I think she thinks that I'm a bit pathetic already cos I make a big deal about everything. I just value our friendship, but my friendship(s) with her (and Plo') seem to be different than with my other mates. I used to think that was cos we are/were in different circles and 'classes', but I have friends, such as Una who is in a different 'class' and circle to me also, but I don't get it with her. And then I figures it was actually just because we're on different wavelengths. Ad that's the nub of it all. Wavelengths. So it doesn't matter how hard I try, nothing will change.

So I ought to stop acting so bloody needy. Hell, I annoy myself, so I dread how Herry must see me. I must seriously piss her off.

And erm... spent quite a lot of time (for us) with Zippy lately. I dunno why I'm mentioning this seeing as he'll

read it (omgsh, Herry might actually read what I wrote about her. Pfftt. Damn. Oh well. Whatever.)

He's a real nice guy. Unlike his brother. He's also massively tall. If he wasn't, then he'd be damn near perfect. But he is amssively tall, so he's not. Ha!

What else? Not a lot. I could write about Pervius McPerv, or Prudence McPrude or Gnat vs. Mrs Hancock. But I'll leave those to the imagiation, cos I'm gonna go now. But there's one thing that inspired me to write this post, not that I've mentioned it once until now, but still... ad it's from that book too.

>>

There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping you and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there. There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed... My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no escape. This confession has meant nothing. This is not an exit.

<<

It just made me sad. I've read that exerpt countless times and never got anything from it. But now I understand the book. I still don't like it, but now I understand how hollow Patrick's life is, and his agony at the end with Jean. I didn't understand before... I may read the book one last time. I may see it differently this time around, instead of reading it just to disgust myself.

I'm off.

(And I'm sorry, Catdog...)