I would say, yes I am still alive. But I'm not. Not really. I suppose I am writing because so much has happened in the last few years that I am tired of retelling it over and over. If I do it this one last time here, I can just stop. If someone really wants to know, I can make them come here and look instead.
I am going to do this differently than before. I am not going to write a daily or weekly or monthly or yearly journal. I am going to start at square one, and tell things that HAVE happened, not things that are. I am going to write the story of my life in general terms, being more specific as I go. I have been told that my story is quite interesting, and I should write a book about my life, so consider this the first draft.
That being said, I don't really feel up to it at the moment, but I am presenting my presence here as an opening to doing so. I have utterly neglected everyone I knew in my alternating bouts with despair and intense relationships. It's been so long at this point, I don't see how I can possibly catch up. I guess that makes me a pretty worthless and neglectful friend. The last few years have made me pretty self-abosrbed and cynical, so I guess no one is missing much anyway.
Hmm I should perhaps do a timeline//chapter listing. Maybe that would help me organize my thoughts for this project.
1) Neglect, and abuse. Nightmares. Evil peers..
2) Popularity at a price.
3) Renting a piece of hell. The homeless.
4) The first, and longest.
5) The bitch from hell.
6) Alone in a group. The young one.
7) Lifesaver. Soulstealer. Deepest blue.
8) The rich and infamous. Secondlife.
9) Stalkers, and Singers.
10) Purple and Silver kittys.
That's all for now.