2002-01-06 - 12:46 a.m.

Dearest Beloved,

At work, there is this boy from the local high school that looks quite innocent and harmless, but the more I get to know him the less I want to know. It's not that I don't like him. It's more that he is not what I thought he was like. It pains me because I put my guard down and now I'm paying for it. It's ok though, I don't think he realizes that he is hurting me. I've been his age and I know he's just molding his personality.

Diana hasn't come by to my diary for the longest time. I don't understand why some people like Diana seem to like me. I'm a horrible little man. I don't even like myself, why would others like me?

I try to escape my reality by sleeping and dreaming. I always dream of meaningful and far away places where I am visible and my presence makes a difference. However, I can never see what I look like in my dreams. I suppose it only matters that in my dreams, I have no reservations.

I put my cousin's picture in my room. I still want to paint my walls. It looks bare.

I thought I was going to only work four hours tomorrow, but now I have to work six. gack.

I should go to sleep, so I don't have to take a nap after work.

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