I so much want to go back to the Flying Scotsman--and yet Saturday was so awful. I want to feel some huge massive breasts in my hands and in my mouth.
I like to hurt myself it seems. I am Peter Pan. Deliberately hurting himself by refusing to go through Wendy's window & join the Darling family, but instead staying outside on the tree branch looking in, crying. No one was going to capture him. This is my last night. Tomorrow is my fifth anniversary at the Flying Scotsman.
I behaved badly with -----. So the next time I met her, I thought she wouldn't want to know me, but as it turned out she was more lovely than ever. I, therefore, behaved even worse than I did the first time, so shocked that she was still being so lovely to me. I cannot cope when someone treats me with love & tenderness. "You sometimes take a very long time making up your mind about your feelings. In fact, it's safe to say that the more you care, the longer it takes you to admit it to yourself."
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