Dear Diary,
I can't believe I'm doing this. Writing in here I mean. How long ago was it that I shoved this book under my bed and vowed never to open it? That was two days ago, Ken. Two days. Can I not hold myself back for more than that. It's pathetic.
This is worse than pathetic. This is a defeat. I told myself I didn't need this stupid diary. Who said I did? My parents. My therapist (not that I need him either).
"It'll be good for you to write down your feelings." They had said. "It'll release stress."
Well...That I know I have a lot of. Which is the reason my parents sent me into therapy in the first place. Why am I stressed? Let's see...The e-mails, the 'digivice' that I just can't bring myself to use, and a little caterpiller that keeps appearing in my dreams. Maybe I should use it, the digivice I mean, to go back there. That place in my computer. That seems like a good way to leave. Even if I never come back, it's not as if my parents would notice.
Hmmmm...I like this book already. It brings good ideas to me.
But what of the boy? It doesn't seem like he wanted me back there. But what does he know anyway? He didn't help me much when I was little. And now that I think about it, he probably isn't still there...unless he ran away...
Whatever. It doesn't really matter what happens to him. He's not the one I care about. And he will not be my reason to stay out. Maybe one day I will gather myself enough courage to go there. An empty place. For me...
No. Not completely empty. Little creatures ran around everywhere. Like the caterpiller. Well, hopefully I'll make it there. Maybe I will live there. Who knows. Someday I may even be king of a data-filled world....
12:01 am
I can't sleep. I can't eat. And there's nothing on television this late at night. So I've been up for hours just reading over what I had written before. I'm not sure if I feel the same way as I did when I wrote it. I'm not sure if I want to run away. Nothing is pushing towards that option enough for me to take that leap. But something is still pulling me there. Not to live there. Just to go. I can hardly remember what it was like last time I went so it may just be curiousity. But it feels so much stronger than that and I hope with all my soul that it is more than just a mindless, humanly emotion.
If I go...I don't have to stay forever. Just for the day. Just enough to design my own world. It would almost be a shame not to go. Almost like I'm turning down the best deal that I could ever hope to get. Well...that's what the e-mail's have been convincing me anyways.
What if you're just being a doormat to this mysterious man?
I'm not. I'm stronger than that. I would realize something like that if it was coming. I know myself that well. After all, I've had to live in my body for 13 years. It would be sad if I didn't know how to control it.
Yes. I know how to make my body do anything. And now I'll make it go to sleep.
Good night.
I can't believe I'm doing this. Writing in here I mean. How long ago was it that I shoved this book under my bed and vowed never to open it? That was two days ago, Ken. Two days. Can I not hold myself back for more than that. It's pathetic.
This is worse than pathetic. This is a defeat. I told myself I didn't need this stupid diary. Who said I did? My parents. My therapist (not that I need him either).
"It'll be good for you to write down your feelings." They had said. "It'll release stress."
Well...That I know I have a lot of. Which is the reason my parents sent me into therapy in the first place. Why am I stressed? Let's see...The e-mails, the 'digivice' that I just can't bring myself to use, and a little caterpiller that keeps appearing in my dreams. Maybe I should use it, the digivice I mean, to go back there. That place in my computer. That seems like a good way to leave. Even if I never come back, it's not as if my parents would notice.
Hmmmm...I like this book already. It brings good ideas to me.
But what of the boy? It doesn't seem like he wanted me back there. But what does he know anyway? He didn't help me much when I was little. And now that I think about it, he probably isn't still there...unless he ran away...
Whatever. It doesn't really matter what happens to him. He's not the one I care about. And he will not be my reason to stay out. Maybe one day I will gather myself enough courage to go there. An empty place. For me...
No. Not completely empty. Little creatures ran around everywhere. Like the caterpiller. Well, hopefully I'll make it there. Maybe I will live there. Who knows. Someday I may even be king of a data-filled world....
12:01 am
I can't sleep. I can't eat. And there's nothing on television this late at night. So I've been up for hours just reading over what I had written before. I'm not sure if I feel the same way as I did when I wrote it. I'm not sure if I want to run away. Nothing is pushing towards that option enough for me to take that leap. But something is still pulling me there. Not to live there. Just to go. I can hardly remember what it was like last time I went so it may just be curiousity. But it feels so much stronger than that and I hope with all my soul that it is more than just a mindless, humanly emotion.
If I go...I don't have to stay forever. Just for the day. Just enough to design my own world. It would almost be a shame not to go. Almost like I'm turning down the best deal that I could ever hope to get. Well...that's what the e-mail's have been convincing me anyways.
What if you're just being a doormat to this mysterious man?
I'm not. I'm stronger than that. I would realize something like that if it was coming. I know myself that well. After all, I've had to live in my body for 13 years. It would be sad if I didn't know how to control it.
Yes. I know how to make my body do anything. And now I'll make it go to sleep.
Good night.