What was the point of that stupid crossroads thing yesterday? Telling me things I basically already knew. Just proving something I already knew about myself. What I know about others. So who really cares? I don�t give a stuff about my �inner voices� or anything like that. And its not like those sex talks were any different to any sex talk we�ve had every other year. Seems as though they think we�re as think as bricks or something.

Sitting here and I don�t think I have a single positive thought. Although, listening to depressing music isn�t really helping with that. But then, it doesn�t really matter. Because it�s not like I�m going to tell anyone what I really think about. It�s nothing gross, for those of you who may think so. Just personal and something I know no one will understand, people may think they do�but how could anyone really understand anyone else�s thoughts. Especially if they can�t even understand their own. Truthfully, I don�t really understand my own thoughts. But I have no intention of trying to understand others.

Ok, so maybe sometimes I do. But, I never will understand.

I need a holiday. Away from everyone I know. Except for maybe a couple of people who should know who they are. The rest, sorry but I need a break. I wish I lived somewhere where there was no one around but myself and the occasional people I like having around. Although, that short list is getting shorter all the time. All I really need is something to write on and a pen�plus all the necessities (food, water, etc.) and I�d be set.

But then I wonder if I�d get sick of myself/selves. If you can�t have fun with yourselves then who can you have fun with? I don�t know. Maybe no one. Pete the stupid fucker doesn�t exist. A figment of my imagination just to keep myself entertained when I have nothing to do.

I need to have people to talk to. But I don�t need them around. I like my silence, but I need to have vocal contact with people. So I guess I should put a phone down as a necessity when I go live in the middle of nowhere with my two dogs, my cat and my rat.

God�not even I believe myself. All I�m doing is lying to my face.

How am I going to go at Jindabyne? (Or however the fuck it�s spelt). Spending an entire week in the company of people who I can barely be around for six hours. But then again, I get bored and sick of sitting at home with nothing but work to do. I love writing�but I can�t do that non-stop at a computer. So what else is there for me to do? Putting my emotion down in writing but afraid that others will find what I�ve written and read it.

I wont even give my web site address to my cousins for fear that they�ll give it to their mum. I couldn�t handle her reading some of the shit I write. She�d end up giving me a lecture about how much I�m worth and how much I�m loved.

Stupid bloody fucking crossroads. I DON�T GIVE A DAMN!!! Stupid whole bloody fucking day. Much anger that needs to be vented and the only way is for me to get violent with someone. Any volunteers? Please?

And now I�ve realised that a stupid fucking song that I downloaded cuts off at the end. What the hell is the point of having a song for downloading that has the end cut off? I can tell that it�s not going to be a good week. Maybe I can convince my parents to let me have some time off. God I hope so.