Wow.
I am sick to the teeth of people. I am trying to have as little social interaction as I can at the moment as it is, and I think I'm losing most of the people I regarded as friends, whom I met here in college. Not because we've fallen out in big ways, but because I just can't be bothered to maintain friendships with them.
Granted, the problem is most certainly with me, not them, I just can't be doing with the 'gang' mentality anyway, because I don't even think I was regarded as a member of the 'Super Happy Crew' as I so lovingly call them.
I think I'd just rather be the loner, the outsider looking in.
I talk to people, I'm certainly nourished with the hugs I get from the people I like, and although I do feel very, very lonely from time to time, it's really just me wallowing in self pity, something I do often, as you boys and girls know.

Also at the moment, I'm regarding that I've made a vital mistake in life, which I think is force of habit:
I always used to think that because people are older, they are naturally above you in terms of their mentality. I guess it stems from stuff when I was a kid like when I was handling certain situations, my Grandma would say something like 'my way's better; I've been around on this earth a lot longer than you have'. Or one of my other various 'elders' is trying to open a jam jar. I try and can't open it, to which I get comments like 'well, if I can't do it then you certainly won't be able to'.
I guess the realisation that there is no real 'chain of command' of which our status increases, or that age is naturally going to make you wiser or, in this case more MATURE, comes with the situation I am in at the moment, with a certain ex-friend I wrote about in my penultimate journal entry prior to this one.
In the time that's lasped between writing it, things really have taken a turn for the obscure.
I'm getting torrents of abuse in all forms of communication, siping rage; telephone calls (which I haven't answered - would you want someone shouting at you down the phone??) then text messages calling me spineless because I don't want torrents of abuse down the phone. I reply with something, okay, perhaps a little bit cryptic and context-sensitive, but I get more texts back telling me to 'stay the fuck out of' her life. When Her Bitchness is clearly stamping all over mine in those God Awful industrial boots she owns.
Then I discover something sinister. There's something on the last text message I got about how 'the 'truth' will come out'. Only through another dear, dear friend, who calls me later do I realise the full extent of how far this vile girl is prepared to go.
This friend, who I regard as someone very close to my heart, who is, like me, very sensitive, and going through a lot of the emotions I am going through.
She called me trying to hold back the tears, and told me that she'd heard something about me she didn't want to know about. Curious, I asked what, and she refused to tell me at first. There are often long silences on the phone when we talk, but these silences weren't comfortable.
I begged and pleaded and she told me what this person said about me. I'm debating even while writing this, dear reader, whether to tell you what this dispicable bitch is preparing to unleash on the world. Lies. Twisted lies. Written lies and verbal lies.
I think I will.
She told this dear, dear friend of mine that I have slept with under age boys.
Gary Glitter, that's me. A Paedophile. I know I have sideburns, but does that make me a paedophile? I have been at the age of consent for having homosexual 'relations' (Bill Clinton now) and, granted, I did kind of lose my virginity when before I was of legal age, but I have never slept with anyone more than a few months younger than me. Anyone any younger than that, well, I know the implications.. and... well.. I know exactly and wouldn't ever do that kind of thing, now now I'm legal, not when I was under age, not ever.

It's clear, this whole thing is a power strugle for this sick, I think slightly retarded person, and I just want to make a direct appeal to her now:
Please stop this! I couldn't (for wont of a better phrase) give a fuck about how many friends you have, whether these people are genuinely your friends, this is not what you think it is, some kind of crusade against you, like you seem to think it is, it's not some blatant way to blacken your name which isn't so high and mighty, and holy, in the first place. You always did brag that you have more friends than me, and I really couldn't care less. People talk, darling, people talk, and rumours spread happilly around. It's the way of the world. At the end of the day, I have a life (and we're talking real, reach-out-and-touch, bona fide, ENJOYABLE life, outside of cyberspace) and I don't need to watch you crack under the realisation that people on the internet are going to, sometimes, not be online when you need someone. The realisation that people aren't going to live up to your high, high, expectations, that not everyone is 'shaggable material'. I don't take what everyone says, their actions, mannerisms (about 3% of which you're getting from the type on a screen) aren't all going to be accurate.
This is not a mission to protect my name. Perhaps there have been times, my dear, when I have reacted wrongly, but at the end of the day, that's me. My journal is by no means a vehicle for creating spin to try and embody a certain aura to the people who read it!

now, regular readers will know that I don't consider myself in any way a nice person, you'll know from what you've read into my life that there is a certain degree of self hatred that consumes me from time to time. Please refer to the entry, 'page after page of sniping rage' for an abridged list of the feelings I have towards myself!
But I think it's plain to say that I am above this person, even though (shock to my Grandma's theory!) above this person: And I can say that to myself however flattened my hair is in the morning, however scared and spineless, and childish and.. SELFISH... I may be that I am above this person. It's better that I broke away from this sham of a friendship when I did, and I only wish the high cell phone from landlines bills could be refunded, when I called her to see how she was (very unselfishly) and I wish i could have used the little energy I waisted on e-mailing and texting her ass could have been used in a much more productive way!
I resent much of everything to do with her, for she would be bitter and nasty, and my only advice to her 'friends' is that you don't take her in too close, because she will be cold, and bitter and nasty, and she's not an easy person to get to know at all... that I would say most of everything she does involves the stencil she has, somewhere inside her, somewhere, a stencil for an ego that is filling, gradually, with a vile, vile green, yellow and black, sticky liquid -a bile - called ego... it's filling day by day, people.
And this isn't an attempt to blacken her name, it's a warning. A true-to-life meaning. Keep HER as a name on the screen, keep her sweet, but just remember what your mummies would no doubt say about Internet people. Because there are some very strange people around.

But don't ask me. I won't be here soon, 'a man who slits throats has time on his hand'

Well, I'm quivering in my sensible shoes, darling.

Love forever, James

P.S. Looking forward to the Star and Garter in may, darling.. I can buy you a drink!! xx