I had a full post here. Ready to go. And my computer spontaneously rebooted. So you all missed it.
Here's my best recreation:
If I hear one more time that I should update my website, I'm going to guzzle a glass of concentrated sulphuric acid. Here's a crazy thought: why don't you screws just ask me how I'm doing? How about just telling me that I can tell you what I'm thinking without the usual obscene burden of judgements that wait behind a quivering thread of patience? If you don't want to know, don't fucking ask. If you don't like the words, don't ask. If you don't want the truth, don't ask. Most of all, if you don't want to know me, don't ask.
This website serves it's purpose. I know it makes you excited. I know it makes you feel better about yourself. I know it makes you feel validated about your judgements. I know it makes you feel like you know me. I know your interests. I know your misery wants company. I feel your eyes reading this and rejecting it - and I pity you. I feel your eyes reading this and agreeing - and I pity you. I know you.
This is my eShit. This is where my brain spreads it's cheeks and blows it's waste products. There is nothing here that you haven't thought a million times to yourself. To hear the echo, you'd think you weren't alone for a moment, but that's all it is. An echo. The worst realization I've had in the past few years is how much I am not alone. Quite the contrary, I've got plenty of company. There really isn't anything so special about my suffering aside from my unusual habit of writing about it. Open Matt indeed. Open wide - here it comes.
You say you love me. You say you want me. You say you understand me. I hear your voices and it minces my heart through a wire mesh of logic. How many times do I have to touch your face and realize later it was a punch? Is there a way through the pattern that results in anything but the usual? Is it just my pattern? It doesn't seem so, even though I understand my own limited ability to surf outside myself. Many people think they are harsh in their judgements of me, harsh with words and action. The fact is that it doesn't affect me at all. There is nothing as harsh as my own harsh mistress. Not even close. So your love, your forgiveness, your understanding, even your judgements - what value is it in the face of that wall? Go for broke. I know what I am, and I'm not fool enough to take you with me.
Instead, take what you want and go. Don't linger here.