i wonder what compulses me to go to birthdays... i know i'm being lured in a space of complete and utter normality and i actually like it when i'm there sitting in somebody else's house on their sofa or bed or whatever doing small talk and playing board games it feels proper, right, still i can't escape the sensation of impending doom- it's like i could erupt at any moment even though i'm surrounded by people with whom i am socially at ease.
the immanent feeling of misplacement is crawling up the back of my neck - i am actually surrounded by strangers fakes hypocrites who would close to anything for acceptance and wormth; actually i am one of them.
but i know i can't go on this way or i will end up biting someone's year off like stavroghin
i should proclaim a divorce from convention and friends...
