today is november 1st. the day of the dead.
i think this will the the official day that i put away my ideas about writing fiction. stop deluding myself into a state of inflated self-importance. i'll write an apology to edward and simon and be done with it. i feel bad for locking them away in my brain to float around with all the other drivel and fragmented ideas, but they're the most complete ideas in there. and they are mine. i spend a lot of time trying to communicate half-thoughts to people and they just give me blank looks. i don't blame them. edward and simon are too good for that kind of abuse. if i can't get them across as the people they are to me, i won't try at all. i won't do them such a diservice.
i feel that i'll never be able to prove myself. i don't now why i think i should have to prove myself in the first place, though.
both statments anger me to no end.

the one person out of the entire population who i require trust from does not trust me. and for no good reason. that makes me tiptoe around on eggshells and whatnot, trying to avoid confrontation. i have to sit there for hours sometimes, gently reassuring him that he has naught to be concerned about. only to repeat the process a couple months later.

really pointless. all of it.