My hands are stained with paint. 
I feel better. 

But I also forgot I had class. 
So I feel extremely tired. 


I'm going to be a melt in my bed. 
And I'm going out and spraying the walls tonight. 
I am becoming a bit worried of myself. Everyone is calling me asexual. 
And I just feel like. 
I am. 
And I know that it's a phase. 
But this phase is very long. 
And I am over it. 
And I know it's because of the repressed memories that came about.
And the acceptance of what else happened as something that really happened. 
And also the fact that the love that I had didn't love me so. 
And didn't want me so. 
And here I am. 
And squeezed dry from a long relationship. 
I am empty inside. 
I don't know anyone well enough to feel comfortable. 
It's not that I want Bryce here specifically. 
But I want the awesome situation that I had with Bryce. 
I am asexual. 
And everyone calls me that. 
And I don't want anyone. 

Last night, Sahara slept with Austin. 
And I was left with Zack. 
Who is such a nice boy.
And went to a weird program like me. 
And we smoked together.
But I left. 
I saw how the situation was going. 
But I am not such of a person. 
I am an empty person. 
A sexually soulless person. 

I just. 
Don't ever want to be disrespected or used again. 
And I know that's not reality. 
I will be. 
Because life is long. 
It's bound to happen again. 

But I'm not going to let that be the way that I re integrate. 
I want to. 
Receive what I deserve. 

I am alone with myself. 


I am bored of my asexual soullessness. 


I have been going to the gym!
Still focusing on my intake. 
And I think that my weakness is a silly woman thing. 
And I'm working hard on giving peeps da benefit of tha doubt. 
And I'm working hard on keepin' mah stomp. 
But my lucid dreams have been taking me. 
And recently, they've been coming true. 
So this is what happened last night:

I had a dream my knees were so bony that they hit while I walked
I had a dream that he was what I expected 
I had a dream that I was in Greece searching for two men 
And while I was trudging through the ocean filled with locals, I looked at two coins with the mans names on them and one was a rapist
And in my dream, I told another friend not to try and touch me 
And in my dream, Ian and I got into a fight
And he yelled at me for teasing him
And told me that's why he did what he did that night
And I told him that he was disgusting for that and that I never said I would ever give him anything. 
And I dreamed Asher came over again
And my bedroom door was open
So as he explained everything to Sahara, he could see me sleeping 


You know.
I feel like I do well at living carelessly. 
And I feel like I am doing well grooving on myself. 
But I still find a sting sometimes. 
And that is my weakness. 
It is nothing I can't talk myself out of. 

I am to. 
Silence myself more. 

I have no bother when it comes to intended friendships. 
But you know. 
I think that I must bother. 
Because I come off to be ways that I am not. 
And these ways cause for others to interpret me incorrectly. 

For some, 
I am not the one to spend time with. 
But if I have a gathering, it is more likely to spend time with me. 
Because the company is for the gathering.
Not myself. 

I will take these observations. 
And I will only put effort into those that return it. 

And I forget this mantra. 
I have said this many many many times before.

But here I am saying it again. 
And here I am attempting the frame of mind. 


I'm over being prude. 
There's just no one I want. 
I don't want a relationship. 
But I want a friend. 
Who I can get everything I want from. 
And who can get everything they want from me. 

I'm becoming aware of my youth.
And I don't want to fully waste this time. 
I'm so picky. 
I am so picky that I leave myself alone. 


So I have been trying to find what is wrong with me. 
And I'm just surprised at how cold I am. 
And I feel this evilness inside of me. 
I feel like I want to grab the walls and rip them down to the streets. 
I want to pick up the sidewalk and throw it to the sky. 
I want to take my spray paint and spray the walls all of my hatred. 
I want to take my guitar and plug it in on the roof.
And I want to fucking scream. 

And it's because I have this forever loneliness inside of myself.
I am truly loved here. 
But my feet ain't on this ground. 
Since 13, I've been flying from city to city state to state country to country. 
And home is nowhere for this skat. 
I'm floating on a cloud. 
No home in dese bones. 
I don't have my soul stabilized anywhere. 
And therefore nothing means as much to me. 
I'm not connected to anything. 
Other than myself. 
And I feel like it's just me Naukietimin' on the streets. 
I wish it was night so that I could go out and crawl. 

I wish I had crawl partners. 
I wish I had hoodlum budz.
I want people to climb the walls with me. 
I want people to take my clothes off for. 
And I want to take off their clothes. 
And maybe I can fuck away my anger, too. 
I want a brotha lova who don't care none. 
And can groove with my groovy friendship. 

I want to do a lot of things. 
And I want them all big. 
I want to start doing things here so that I can feel myself on the streets again. 
So that I can feel like Brooklyn got me, and I gots Brooklyn. 
Right now, it's just selfin'. 


I have been thin. 
It is too hot to weigh anything. 


I am sad to say. 
That though I am an empty one. 
I have put effort into one skat. 
But tha skat don't feel me back. 

I think that. 
I am by my side. 
And I think that. 
Only fools don't join my stride.