So here I sit. Alone with my thoughts yet again… Wanting so desperately to scream them at someone but having no one worth losing to allow that to happen. An online journal is where I’ll start. I have used my real life journal less and less since I was released. Sucked deeper and deeper into fucking Facebook. It’s disturbing how attached to these things I have become. I am hoping to find some release away from these things slowly. Only time will tell. I really think getting my thoughts out will help. My constant battle within myself is relentless. My addictions. My co dependency. My eternal loneliness. My desire for the paper. It must be fed. Luckily I have beautiful friend S that want to share their love of paper with me as well… Oh dear Jacob. You are so entirely my spirit and soul. Love as you may, things are not what they should be. But they arent what they once were and for that I am so grateful. Patrick, my love. My heart. My stability and groundation to this planet. There is nothing I would not give for you. The struggles we face are oh so real and fierce and fiery. But there’s no man I’d rather fight for today, yesterday, tomorrow. We prevail. I feel quite strange writing this here now. As if to be exposed for all the darkest vulgarity that makes up me by some passerby. Nonsense. Who cares about a little ole me? Shenahs got nothing to say, eh? Nonsense. Living in the past tense. constantly a struggle within the depths of my intangible spirit. Things will be ok. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh it all away she will say. It’s all we have left, hope. The hope that someone somewhere won’t be listening to the impending screams of someone who’s simply sitting silently savage. Let’s allow this to eat up the rendered raindrops of emotion, confusion and last lengths of sanity I have left within myself. I mean. What’ll it hurt? Nothin and no one. I mean…who’s really listening here anyway?