Monday 18th June 2011.
My name is David Karofsky, I play hockey and football and my best friend is Azimo Adams. That is what almost everyone thinks they know about me, all that I am, the sum of the parts etc. etc.
They're wrong.
Only one thing written above is actually true, well two if you want to be pedantic; but none the less. I play hockey and I play football, but Azimo is not my best friend… I'm not really sure if he ever was.
Maybe I'd be better off starting again, it may help clear some confusion.
My name is David Karofsky, I am a coward, I am a bully and I am a freak… a gay freak.
Huh, you know… that's the first time I've said it, you know me being gay. Yeah, I know, laugh it up… the Big D is nothing more than a cock sucking, boy loving freak… mind you, it sure puts a different spin on 'fists of fury'.
Shit, I've really got to stop watching porn before I write this shit down, my shrink will have my nuts; still, he's the one that won't let me erase or change anything I write down in the diary. Fuck, how girly can I get, writing in a diary, Hummel would have a field day… or ask to decorate the cover.
Yeah, Hummel; even now he is the bane of my existence, as well as the reason I keep on getting up each morning. Shit, there goes the flowery speech. Well you know something? So what, I'm a fag, a shirt lifter, a butt pirate, a cock sucker… you name it. (Well in theory anyway).
Yup, another bolt of lightning for you, I have imagined everything possible that two (or more) guys could do together, both giving and receiving, and yet all I have managed is one fucking kiss. See the aforementioned bane for details… I don't have the heart to relive it all again just yet.
Right, back to the shrink and my 'homework', I'm supposed to sit here each day for the next week and do a stream of consciousness writing exercise for an hour, just let my mind flow and the pen will follow. Well shit, thanks for that Obi Wan Kenobi, it's not as if I don't have enough real shit I have to do with my time.
Anyway, where the fuck was I? Hmmm.
I'm supposed to write about anything that comes to mind, it can be fully formed or disjointed as long as it comes from me without planning or editing. Well I suppose that shit up top there can be classified as free form. There's a lot I could write about, even more I should write about, but at the moment there is really only one thing I want to say. This sucks.
No, maybe it doesn't suck, I'm just not sure what to say or even how to say it. All I know is I'm scared, I'm scared that I'll be outed, I'm scared that I'll never come out; I'm terrified of being disowned and boot out on my ass. I'm scared of Kurt Hummel and the power he has over me. But the one thing I am most afraid of… is not being able to stop.
I wish I knew how to stop the hurting, to stop being scared; to stop loving hurting Kurt Hummel, to stop hurting myself emotionally.
Just hurting myself full stop.
I have 22 scars on my left arm, 18 on my right thigh and 13 on my left. Each one of those scars lets out some of the hurt, some but never enough. It seems tears are not enough anymore; no, not by a long shot, bright crimson, quickly welling and just as quickly stopping. Although, sometimes darker, thicker blood is called for, the type that oozes slowly but never seems to stop, ever so slowly draining away the pain and letting me be for just that much longer.
Maybe I'll try that introduction again.
My name is David Karofsky, I am a coward and a bully, I am gay and a cutter, I am residing in a pleasant but bland room with nothing sharp in evidence and an overpowering scent of disinfectant in the air, but most of all, I am David Karofsky and I am so scared.