So I got to thinking, what happens to the happy happy joy joy faggots when they go home at night. The ones that live to be center of attention, the ones that love their voices... For years I’d been kept happy knowing theirs were double lives, and that when they got home and let the pretense drop, they would collapse under the immense weight of their act and cry. But what if I’m wrong and they are right? What if balance is incorrect and the right way is to just take and take and take until you can’t take any more. What of Karma? What of managing pain? Why bother if it’s all pointless? So I’ve spent the last week feeling more depressed and helpless than I have ever done before. I hurt and I don’t know what I can do about it other than just avoid anyone I care about and try not to lash out at the remaining people near me. Work was really fucking difficult today as I spent most of it so close to tears...I’m so glad that it’s my second week and that I still don’t have too much to do... Little things have been plunging me into deep stuff. Things said that I don’t know whether or not to take seriously or what. The only person I want to be with is the one person that I’m scared of talking to because of the potential for more hurt. Life just seems too much effort at the moment and all I want to do is lie in bed, curled up, and not talk to anyone again. Reckon I’m giving a stunning impression to my new bosses, wandering about all puffy eyed and unshaven but I’m really not sure what to do next. I need to get away. I think I’m going to escape to Leeds or Mank or somewhere when I get paid for a weekend or a bit longer. I have a funky Gold annual discount card thing so might as well use it. Chatted with Nav this evening some. He has a knack of distracting me from myself and making me think. Friends are good, even when I don’t want to be near any of them. Have work from KHRP to do soon, guess it shouldn’t take too long, but making myself do stuff at the moment is hard. Am going to try and have an early night tonight, but god knows if I’ll actually manage to sleep at all. Last night I just had these horrible dreams, dreams of losing someone you love, being helpless to stop it. Dreams of misplaced trust, of knowing a truth that only you know and nomatter who you tell, they won’t believe you. Dreams of a fire. Of watching loved ones burning, helpless, unable to reach for them. I know that by writing this I’ll be helping exorcise them somewhat, because all day they’ve just been going over and over in my head - I’ve not felt like this since the first time Mark “flipped” at me at Ashley’s party all those years ago and I have no idea why I feel like it now. Sure, part of it is the James thing, that hurts me a lot, but not this much? Why should it be affecting me this way? I just don’t know what to do. So I sleep lots and try and just act myself at work tomorrow. Thankfully I don’t have to be in the office all day so I’ll be able to hopefully collect my thoughts on tubes and stuff. It’s ironic that in my life I’ve thrown so many sickies and stuff that the one time when I could really do with some time out to myself, I can’t. Or maybe I am right, and it is Karma...