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2003-02-16 - 10:41 p.m.

'if there is a god, she hates me'

Tell me about bruises. And pain. Tell me about brutality. And the things we go through in the search for unaloneness. Then tell me what it's like to be loved so softly it hurts. Tell me about the difference. Tell me there is a difference and that I'm not as fucked up as I feel right this second. Because I need to believe in something now. Need to believe in a basic goodness. Because people are terrifying. And horrible. And violent. And you never really think it's going to be you. Silly, silly fucking rabbit.

Why am I constantly left unguarded and unarmed in this world of concealed weapons? Where is my protector? Where is my guardian angel? Did she slink away one night, head bowed low in utter defeat because I am unprotectable? Am I so unworthy and unlovable?

And I can't really wrap my mind around this thing that�s happened. What it was or what it means for real. Maybe tomorrow things'll be clearer. But then maybe I really don't want them to be.

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all written material � jordorange 2003-2004

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