You're an angel sent to save

2.40 AM, Falköping, Sweden

"Dear diary"

Haven't been writing to you in a while now, I'm sorry for that. I guess nothing interesting has been happening while I was back in Småland. Not that it's more interesting now when I'm back in Falköping, but anyway...

Erik picked me up at home today (Tuesday, that is) and we drove to Jönköping and got on the train back to Falköping. It felt great to be in his company again, when I'm around my family I feel really awkward and as if I cannot be myself. Maybe I'm just afraid that they will not approve of my lifestyle, and I don't want them to know about how I feel. It's better that way, I don't want to handle all their questions and their anger.

So we got back home, been watching TV all night, and now I'm sitting here writing to you. Feels like I have trouble finding the right words today... nevermind...

Haven't got any plans for tomorrow except going downtown to try and sell some old golden wedding rings from my grandparents. They're not alive anymore, so why should they care? On Thursday, I'll be meeting Jessica at a poetry slam contest she's participating in, and on Friday I'll hopefully be meeting with Nora. She said she wasn't sure she could come, said something about some trouble at home and with her boyfriend. Anyway, I'll be getting drunk as fuck even if she doesn't show up, so I guess that's gonna work out anyway.

I feel confused. My mind is spinning so fast that I cannot get any of my thoughts straight. At home, I spent the nights speaking to Tina via msn, we talked about so much that I haven't really been able to think about it that much. It usually catches up with me a few days after, and then we're back to freaking out again. What a nice lil' cycle we have here. I've processed, or at least tried to process, so much information the last few days that my head feels like it's gonna explode. New conditions, new information, new music, new people. When I get to that point, I always feel lost, lost and really mad at myself for not being able to handle it. Why can everyone else seem to think straight, when I can't? My head is so full with words, dreams, plans and everything inbetween that I can't focus. If I could, I know everything would unfold and my future would be in my hands. I could become whatever I wanted to become, and realize my dreams. Fuck... I need a doctor, cause' I'm not making any sense...

Another thing... why do I have this unhealthy fascination for broken girls? The more depressed they are, the more attracted I get. I have this urge... this... need to help them. When I get to know one of these girls, I feel like it's my responsibility to do everything I can to help them. And it makes me feel alive, makes me feel strong, like I am the knight in shining armor who comes to protect them from everything that tries to hurt them with my powerful shield and my mighty sword. I feel like I actually have a purpose, that I'm not just wandering through life, lost in my own thoughts and my own personal hell. I can't count the nights I spent watching over girls haunted by nightmares, girls who are totally knocked out on sleeping pills and anti-depressive medicines, girls who are having panic attacks... Maybe it's because I feel more like a man, and not that little scared boy, when I get to protect the weak. So far so good... but why the hell do I get sexually attracted to them as well? You would think that a girl who is struggling with anorexia or depression would be unattractive, but the more broken they are, the more I get sexually attracted. I feel like a fucking pervert, but hey... if people can be turned on by fucking a midget nun while being smeared in with their own pee by big black homosexuals, then I think it's ok for me to be turned on by depressed and broken girls, right?

Fuck, everything's just spinning around. I want off this ride now, please, before I throw up and make a scene. Maybe some sleep would cure my daze and confusion. (Dream on, dream on fucker, you're not gonna sleep, you're gonna be awake, overdosing your new sleeping pills while freaking out... you're such a sick bastard. Get a grip.)

Night ladies' (especially all of you "broken" girls out there! ;D)