Dear Doc Block

Really bad night. Panicking and sick and don't know if I need help.
It stings and I hurt.

Inability to analyze without emotions and an end of an existence and I can't let go.

I can't let go, I keep going and it roots me into who I am, but not a person of change; instead, a person submitted to her own memory and obstructive emotion.
Maybe that's it: my inability to extract emotion from truth. Everything is perception and analysis, so how much can you strip away? How much is opinion?

For a long, long time, I denied a part of myself that I needed to mature out of. The need for constant companionship. Compiling lovers.




And tonight, I felt it touch me again, and I subconsciously pulled out the idea that I am denying my base emotions - what I desire mostly in the night.

I do this to be a better person. But what constitutes a better person... is within societal boundaries. Limits that I don't agree with.


I don't think I'm ever really over anyone in my life and that bit about me is killing me. I have another reason to hate myself.

I don't want to be here anymore. I hate anywhere that I am.

I think I loved, but was never really in love. Forced infatuation. I used them.

I don't think I'm conscious of said manipulation. But a lot of it has to do with my needs, and not the want of the person. For that, I feel guilty. I think I fear this, and I fear that this is what people think of me.

Pappas pushes buttons. He's one of those writers. Those who explore personalities through limits, pushing buttons.

I think I flattered, and if I have disdain for you, I display justified anger.
That makes me a pushover.

I'm a product of society, and I think I innately disagree with a lot of how I feel.

Children can commit suicide. That's depressing. Innocence versus ignorance.

Fear it, and the probability of your fear coming true is heightened.