disgusting entry.
2009-03-06 8:44 p.m.

where to start?
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fourth strike, and you're not out, you're still there, hanging on, not because you want to, but because you have no choice.
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this is not a good time for my self-image - i'm not writing here, simply because i don't feel i have anything interesting to say these days, since i find myself uninteresting. I'm losing the self-love which i held on to for most of my adult years - i'm not changing anymore, and the things that are troubling me don't change anymore, and everything has stayed the same as it was as long as i can remember. The intense aura of emotionality and sexuality which presided over the earlier years, is being substituted by the ongoing bulldozer of sadness, mild depression, mild desperation, mild satisfaction, and alot of repression, not because i want to repress, just because i don't see any use in grinding water. And i realize that my emotional response is pretty lame, and thus i stop respecting myself - there never really was anything too beautiful about mildness, or self-pity. and that's that.
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and then i'm having fun, i'm drunk. And then i stop having fun, i'm crying, and lying on the road somewhere in northern italy, and even my best friend can't handle so much self-pity, and he says he realizes how yeah he is depressed, but it's on a different scale completely than my scale, and that he doesn't know what to say, and he says that i probably only talk that way because i'm drunk, and i say that i'm that away also when i'm not drunk, and i spit out more truths than i would have liked
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i hate it how people are so touchy about everything - If for one second you express doubts about the quality of their jobs, apartment, hair, depression - immediately they get hurt, and then you end up not saying anything to your friends, since you don't want to hurt them, and walking between the drops, and it wears you down.
sure, i'm like that as well.
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and when i see the humidity swelling up in your eyes, i get a hard on.
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I've been wondering - what's the usual frame of mind of people who commit suicide? Are the people that really actually do it, the ones which have played with the idea for years, and finally had the courage to do it? And what made them to decide, at that particular moment, that NOW, is the time to end it all? Or maybe it is usually a spontaneous thing, standing in front of a bridge, and then suddenly losing it, or winning it, and jumping? or maybe 9 out of 10 times, it's people who wrote notes, and said their emotional goodbyes from life, and yada yada yada? where's my statistics?
...
yuck, man.