01/22/2005 - 2:07 a.m. | ice cream smooth

Hello, diary readers I was unaware of! I am a wee bit drunk, but not even close to enough to not feel guilt. Not that I can take any of it back, but still. Pretty much how this diary works is that anyone who does stumble upon it feels somewhat enraged. I'm sorry about that. I say mean things, and sometimes I mean them. But the guilt part means there's still some human inside, right? Anyway, "artfag" is honestly not meant as an insult. Fuck, I'm an artfag, for Christ's sake. It's just a group of people, and I needed a term, and I like that one a whole lot. Also, I say harsh things because that is how I think. We aren't supposed to say those things out loud, though, so I write them, and then chain of events leads to world discovering them. That one is my bad, but I expect everyone thinks the same. Or I am wrong and am therefore a suprememly awful person, in which case, what goes around, comes around. And the arrogance is all a front covering up how much I worry about everything all the time. It's hard to read my tone, I expect, but I'm more flippant than you'd expect. So, I don't expect you to stop hating me, but at least know I feel bad about being hated. It gives me knots in my stomach. Another group alienated. Well, fuck. I've never gone so far as to say that I'm not just this person with all these horrible flaws and detriments, and I just wish some people would catch on to all of it.