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August 13, 2010

My voice teacher encourages me to do auditions and stuff, to reaudition for the music program so I can be more a part of it. I've been working out, but not without pain, and progress has been slow. Especially with how I eat.

I guess what scares me is like, what if this is the best it will ever be. What if this is the most in shape I will ever be, and it's all going downhill. What if the art I've made is it. What if it's all going to be old and lame from here.

I feel stupid to be at this school, trying. Trying to do anything makes me feel stupid because I feel like I'm a loser. And nothing can change that because I'm too late.

When I was in New York, it seemed like it was the life I should lead, but it felt too late, like I may as well not be alive.

Was just talking to the girl I've been fucking, on the phone. Talked about my insecurities, but felt worse by the end. Then I just felt like talking solves nothing. Running to the Edge of the World was on, and I felt the mortality of people around me. I felt scared.

Earlier I felt scared of being ugly. I'm too scared to hit on anyone unless I'm given really, really, stupidly clear signals and if they seem in my range. I thought of how if an attractive person will look at me, even a marginally attractive one, that it can't be that they think the same of me. Then I wondered, am I really the ugly one. Am I the one who people dread speaking to because I'm so ugly.

Where the world's ugliest boy,
He became what you see,
Here I am
The ugliest man.

I feel like I have piles of nostalgia. A majority of what I love has become nostalgia. My favorite video games, songs, they are all moving further and further away in time.

I don't believe in myself. I don't believe I can be successful at anything, at least not at being liked. Not at any form of "stardom". So at least let me be what I'd like my star to be, even if others don't recognize it. Let me put beauty into the world.

I thought of how every decision seems to be made by my mother. Every motion is cumbersome. Every phone call, impossible.

Right now my focus is on getting work. I guess you will hear about it if I do. If you have read everything here, you know that is scary to me. It is becoming less scary to me, though, lately. For some reason it's less scary than anything else right now.
I yearn for analysis, to be found out, to have my story analyzed and fed back to me, so I can know the best way to heal.

I never realized how damaged I am until recently. Until my dreams passed by, and I still wanted them more than anything.