"Ah not so bad, I'm alright, how about yourself?" I say braisenly to whoever asks that fucking moronic question. Excuse my bitterness, but if I was to tell you; you would feel nothing but regret for asking.
This is my prerecorded response to everything. Even when I have something to say, I will still say this first.
But because of this prerecorded response, I don't know where to begin, so I shall ask myself through the power of the internet, with our lovely assistant; malesurvivor.org - ask me how I'm doing.
So Poorsoft, how's it going?
Well to be honest bro, it's not going well. I am still here, still chipping away at my quarry of doubt and denial. I'm growing bored of playing this game. I want to stop and move on to something else, you know; like you normally do. But I can't, I think of nothing else. The very thought itself is infectious, it taints me from head to toe. I lay at night, fantasizing about putting myself in a situation where I would get assaulted, I trawl tirelessly through my mind, looking for something that will confirm that it was CSA. It can only be CSA that has occured, but the evasive fragments of my memories still persist in eluding me. As I said, I grow tired of this game. I guess smoking so much pot on a daily basis will do nothing but increase the paranoia and doubt. Whats worse is the insane card is something you're playing quite well, you convince those around you by your extreme eccentricity, but are let down by the innevidble mood swings. People know somethings up, you're taking risks you never would before, all you think about is the prospect of the death. I am wrapped in self hatrid and love nothing but to loathe at my existance. Its tiring thing to do, but you have your reasons.
If you dont remember something soon, I fear for what actions you will take. I fear for you because you do not fear for yourself. I still love you and I'm still here. Don't forget about me man.