As long as this takes, without fear.

I took the plastic and cardboard to the recycling bin. I wanted to go outside and just to do something. The bin is full, so I turned around and thought I'll check tomorrow. I heard someone through and apartment window. Sounded like a young girl. I thought that I notice a lot. I thought of the people near my apartment who might have seen me walk to the bin and might see me walk back to the apartment. I imagined them thinking I was an idiot for thinking that recycling matters and for wanting to recycle egg cartons. Those people I imagined made me sad and embarrassed. I thought, all I can do is not kill myself. That also made me sad, and I began to wonder why I thought that. My pulse rate rose. It also rose earlier, when I read an Onion review of Game of Thrones, which was thoroughly pornographic. I thought of talking to Stacy about my suicidal thoughts. Then I thought of telling her it is hard to handle myself during extended free time, especially alone. Then I thought of actually handling myself, as in masturbation, and telling Stacy that last Wednesday I decided to quit porn and actually mean it and make that promise to myself last. I haven't masturbated since Monday, late at night, almost one week. I have touched myself a little in a sensual way, but not for more than a minute and not with any goal. It's all about improving myself.
It's already so late in the day.
I started my food log again. I eat horribly. I am hoping that going to Craig's will help me change my diet. I have to call him though, but I am afraid again. I act like I want to do nothing. I think I want to do a lot, but I never actually want to do anything. What is it? What is that? I am grateful for Blogger.com. I would have too many files on my laptop otherwise.
I am afraid of myself. I am the most dangerous thing for myself. I am afraid of pain, physical pain. I am afraid of believing I am in hell, either from a mental issue or from actual hell on earth. Somehow people don't die and they're always on fire, everything hurts all the time... I am scaring myself. As I was breaking boxes I thought, If we don't try to make things better all the time, then hell on earth is a constant threat. I thought of the Rapture and crazy Christians, maybe they have mental disorders that make them fear apocalypse, or think that they know the only way to avoid it. I really love Aaron. I really want to know what he knows. I want to try to understand the ideas of God and purpose and eternal love. I love to pet a cat.
Listening to Bright Eyes. Everything is intense. Pat is still sleeping from his after class nap.

I wonder. About so much. A song to pass the time, very beautiful... I feel it. I am weak from emotions.

Dodger Leigh... so beautiful. I want to kiss with her. Close to tears. We have to take the trash out today. I am tiny, fragile... I am beautiful.

Cry... Save it. Save everything. It's precious. It's willful. What is it to do? Jaw tightens up. Nose trickles.

What can I do at this moment. Why am I so overwhelmed so quickly, so incapacitated. Pat and I watched Holy Motors last night. I fell asleep in the last 15 minutes. I watched the last scene today. It is an odd film. I liked it mostly.

I am afraid of Patrick finding me type this and of him reading it and judging me and disapproving. I am nervous about working in a week. It will be easy and fine. Mom will feel less pressure, and that is the best.
I must be perfect. Grammar and everything.

OK I guess I am out of things to say. See ya.