Written on paper that's in the recycling bin.

Everywhere I turn, I hurt someone
But there's nothing that can change the things I've done
Of all the things I hid from you, I cannot hide the shame
And I pray someone, someday, somehow, will take away the pain

There's no way out of this dark place
No hope
No future
I know I can be free
But I can't see another day
I can't see another way

Quite honestly, I don't know if I even got the lyrics right. Still, I cannot get them out of my head for reasons relevant to who I am.

Today started off as usual, I came in, went to the student cafe, started working on my Drawing 2 final after my creative block, and waited for the classroom to let out to drop off my things. Christina came by, and we talked. I mentioned how "the powers that be" have commanded me to find a job. Christina, as a good friend that she is, helped me get a tow in the door at school working the summer shift. To avoid talking to Bob, the main maintenance worker and Christina's boss, I worked on my final.

I worked on work to avoid work.

As I worked, I thought about various things, all of which seemed centered around my sexuality and my behavior. Pretty much any class I had with Coffey and/or Jason, I've felt like I acted like a pervert around them.

Christina then came by asking if I would like it if she asked Bob for me what summer positions where available. I said yes, but she'd owe me.

Big mistake.

A slight yet very mature conflict occurred resulting with me tucking tail and apologizing. I blamed the stress. She then said, "I'll talk to you when you can think straight."

Translation: You ungrateful bastard! See if I do you any favors anymore!

Can't say I didn't have this happen before. I guess the only thing I was able to improve on was the fact that I caught my mistake just before the 5 minute after-the-fact mark. Like I said, I apologized, but even to me I don't believe that I was sincere.

I then turned my attention back to my drawings. That's when I had a moment of realization.

For the longest time, I have always put myself and my art at a distance. Art was just something I made because I have all these ideas that need a way out. That's about as personal as it ever got. After what happened with Christina, I realized my art this time is very personal, as it was assigned to be. I stared at the image I was working on, a nude male torso with a hole where the heart is. I felt my own heart sting with the pain of loneliness, as if it was disappearing. The piece itself is a symbol of a personal insult. Take a guess which.

I have no heart any more. I am emotionally numb when it comes to human interaction and socialization. I can't get close to people. I can't appreciate charity and kindness. On top of that, I can't love anyone! Friend, family, or otherwise.

This only confirms what I've been told countless number of times.

I am a pathetic piece of shit.