Red's Diary Of Meandering Shit

FILL IN THE PAGES WITH FEAR AND LAOTHING 12:59PM. Monday night, now tuesday morning. 5 more days to spend in the instituion that has practically been my home for 10 years. 1AM tuesday morning. Burning incence, hoping to mask the smell of tobacco, the one drug that has been forbidden for my use by my mother.

Staring at walls, 2 red, 2 purple. I must be mad...

1:01 tuesday morning. I am mad. I can smell myself. Nicotine oozing from my pores, my bodily scent reminiscent of a time following the mardi-gras - sweaty, human and smoky, with a hint of cologne.

Writing with a pen given to me as a 'reminder' of my 10 years in above mentioned instituion. It's even a Parker pen, only the best will do for the spolied and over pampered cunts, most commonly known as my peers and contemporaries. A group of people, many of whom I am relishing never seeing again.

[cramp in left foot, causing extreme discomfort, but an odd sensation of pleasure]

1:04AM tuesday. Incense in now permeating my clothes. I can hear my mother snoring. It could be safe soon to light up a cigarette.

My closest friends consisting of a gay male, a confused bi-sexual female and another female who says she's bi, but I think she just wants to fit in with the misfits. Also another whom I haven't confided in for a long time now. She's scared of the new 'gay' me. It's the same me as it was 9 months ago, last year, 2 years ago, 10 years ago. But the fact of the matter is, I said it and have now been relegated to the partially untouchable sector of her mind. It's a shame as I did value her friendship. But in the mean time, I've made new friends, one's tha I think accpet me for who I am, or who I appear to be, or want to appear to be, becuase I apperently put up barriers, but apparentlyone of them can see they're there and "see through them".

I don't see the barriers. My mind is open to be picked. Which isn't always a good thing. It becomes a storm net that collects rubbish after a rainy patch, or a shark net that catches unthinking turtles, causing them to eventually drown, only to be rescued by sickos that use them for cutlery and dinnerware or an attractive wall hanging, along with their sheepskin rugs and deer antlers.