Decisions...

I don't even need to read back through my old posts here to know, to just fucking KNOW that the same thing will unfold once again.

Maybe Kevin was on to something when he sat on his ledge and talked about this place. Maybe he was right to say that things are ok once you leave here. But what if he's wrong? What if I'm haunted by my own poor unconscious decisions? And no matter where I go, I'll be tracked down by this faceless killer and mutilated from the emotions out.

I count my blessings that I don't have to deal with a ton of drama on a regular basis, and maybe that's the guise this place hides under. But all I ask for is friends. That's all I've ever asked for and all I ever will ask for.

And I get friends. Really great ones, too! But with every luxury comes a price, I suppose. And the price for friendship, in my world, is apparently misery.

What it really boils down to is this: Either I fuck dudes or I hate them.

This is why I'm leaving.