what day is everyone saying it is?

Urr... the futility of self-expression. Sometimes I think it would be better if we could just touch each other and exchange memories rather than words. I lack the vocabulary to describe most things like a lot of people, and it is very isolating. "How are you?" "Just fine." I don't think I've ever meant that in my entire life. People ask, but they don't want to hear an answer. I ask it too, out of reflex. My hypocrisy shows.

I realize that a lot of these entries sound self-pitying. I swear that's not how it is - I hate pity and consider it an insult when people pity me. Truthfully, and without some sort of warped elitism, I don't like how I feel most of the time and I don't like how this world, this existence, is. Like there's no place for me, which is why I feel so shitty and alone all the time. I try to explain this to other people, but no one truly understands. My friends offer a sympathetic ear and try their best to help... I don't know. It comes back around to the problem of self-expression. It's so hard to explain. There is one, maybe two people whom I know that come close to getting this, but neither of them I see regularly. That's probably why I'm so crazy about Elliott Smith - he hurts, well he used to hurt, in a way I think I understood. But he killed himself.

I am beginning to not trust myself around girls. There's no problem talking to them (I really never had a problem there), but... I think I'm starting to let loneliness get the best of me. I don't know how to say it. Like girls I just met, that I barely know... I want to touch and be touched and kiss and laugh and be held. It takes a lot to not try and kiss a near-stranger, which is incredible considering how shy I can be. Once, a younger girl gave me her number, and no one had ever shown interest in me before, so I jumped at it, knowing that I had no real feelings for her. It was just physical, and I really hurt her because I selfishly let it go on. It wasn't anything too heavy, I mean I'm still a virgin, but I was, and am, deeply, deeply ashamed of myself for that.

This ache is unending and I don't know why and where... and I keep going on and on and on about it like some attention-starved child with a skinned knee. Suicide is not an answer and doesn't solve anything, but I find it drifting in and out of my mind with more frequency. I made the mistake of telling that to a therapist or psychiatrist once. It's troubling how their eyes change and they lean forward in their chair. Prescriptions and surveillance and questions... maybe I just needed a hug?

Will meeting and loving someone amazing make me feel better? Will me making that person feel loved fill whatever I'm missing inside me? I am losing hope quickly. I think I'm starting to crack from loneliness - like the beginnings of some sort of psychosis. Seriously.