you see. i used to love and love and love and give myself away. it was like the more people i could talk to, the better. i could say "hey - i feel like shit!" now i can't even say "hey". being a teenager is horrible. unclean skin and hormones. you're not a real person, you're 50 different people, depending on the circumstances. i'm tired. i've been tired for years.

i envy the people i know who can talk to their parents. anna's mother comes around from time to time, and they'll sit for hours and smoke, drink tea and talk. and i sit in my room and try to drown out their voices with music, but not too loud of course, because i don't want to disturb them. i'll sit and stare into the wall, imagining my mother and myself, talking about anything and everything.

my parents never come to visit me at the apartment. they never ask if they can come over, they don't call to see if i have a spare moment to spend with them. my mother calls once in a while to ask when i'm coming home, and i'll say "i don't know" and she'll tell me that my granmother cried to her on the phone for hours, because she saw my piercings when i visited her two weeks ago. and she will start to cry and say i've ruined myself and how can i do this to her. that, and the way that my father laughs at me in that "oh dear you are ridiculous" kind of way, reminds me we don't talk. we don't communicate.

it makes me sad.

i went out last night sort of. some bands were playing at elv�rket, and since i knew them, i thought i would go there. astrid came by and it was nice until we got there. i've stopped drinking alcohol. the bands were good. i felt lonely. and completely alienated. it's like we only say hi to each other because, well, we are sort of friends/acquaintances(?) and we used to smoke cigarettes together during breaks in high school. and there's the guy i made out with in year two, who had a crush on me for god knows what reason, who somehow always tries to get with me because... who knows? i'm the first girl he ever kissed. we're trying to set him up, but he is completely oblivious, and every one knows what's going on.

and everyone was so drunk. and everyone was being loud and shallow, and that's just the way it is, and i hate it. i went home and i cut myself for the first time in almost a year. in july last year, something went wrong in �rhus and i was drunk, locked outside and my instinct told me to walk out in front of a car, or bleed. so i bled on the sidewalk and i didn't feel better. i didn't feel better when i started bleeding today while i was taking photographs of costumes for a musical. i'm an idiot. it was an accident, i wasn't thinking, but i was completely aware of it all. and no one wants to read long entries, but i shouldn't censor anything, so i won't. it's been a long time since i have been honest. no, it's been a long time since i have written about anything in particular. cryptic messages are horrible.

i'm not a horrible person. and i wish i could understand why it is so hard for me to hold on to people. why it is so hard for me to actually have a healthy relationship with any body. it always goes wrong, i'll say too much about myself and people get scared. i'll be sending wrong signals (?) and people fall in love with me. i'll fall in love and the person won't love me back. okay, so the last one has only happened once, but still. i've shut down and i really really need someone to talk to.

anna is in sweden. last night she told me about a friend of hers who was raped by a taxi driver in... africa, or something. maybe thailand? i don't know, i stopped listening after she said 'rape'. and i want to tell her.

a month after it happened, after i had told the police, it was in the newspaper. and people were talking, people i didn't know, but who knew who i was. anna came over to me in school, pulled me to the side, and asked if it were me. was i the girl that had been raped? i didn't know it had been in the paper. on the front page. i told her no, i didn't know what she was talking about, why was she doing this? when we were twelve and i had tried to kill myself and told her, she went ahead and told a bunch of people. i didn't hate her, i just felt betrayed. when we started high school, we weren't speaking to each other, too much trouble, too much history. she was busy being shallow and having too many friends, and i was busy being a geek and whoring myself on the internet. she'd told people in my class.

when spring came and it became warmer, i wasn't hiding any scars and a girl came up to me and said something like, "i know y.................

stupid story. where was i? i want to write anna a letter and tell her something. but i don't know how, and i know i couldn't possibly face her afterwards. she'll feel awkward and i will feel awkward and i don't want awkward. i'm tired of awkwardness and arrogance and distrust. sometimes i don't trust her. sometimes, when i'm unhappy, i want to move. find something in copenhagen for myself, because i suspect that she is searching for an apartment that will not fit me also. it's her apartment. i'm just staying there so she can pay less. she wants me to not eat meat, and i don't. she suggested not drinking, and i stopped, but she didn't. it makes me feel left behind. because she has fun times with people she talks badly about when they are not there.

but when i feel okay i love her to death, because she makes me laugh and laugh until i cry and cannot breathe.

there are so many things i wish i could have done differently. i wish i had never stayed with david that night, or even visited him, because we were obviously bad for each other. maybe we could have been friends if we hadn't kissed. i wish i had been a better friend to jonas, because i miss him, and there is nothing i can do. i i i. ! ! !. there are so many people i wish i hadn't opened up to, or begun to open up to. pieces of my life spread across the country.

i hate that i can't let you touch me, because there is only one person who can touch me, and that person... because it hurts and i can only say i'm sorry for being weird and feeling uncomfortable when you look at me and when i know you want to hold me and i want you to, but it's like knives when you touch me and my skin starts burning. so i cut myself, because it's almost the same. and i know it's stupid and i don't really want to do it, but i can't stop. i'm sober, what's wrong with me.