Maybe it's that my focus shouldn't be on committing suicide. When the right time and certitude fall upon me, the option is always there. As long as I'm alive, I can always commit suicide, that's the wonderful thing about a goal like that.

Maybe it's not the committing suicide, but the wanting to. Always. That's partly really horrid, partly completely right on. And it's still much better than resigning myself to living, which always seems to translate in my head as 'living an ordinary life', i.e., not striving to move beyond the stagnant form of ordinary existence, and taking manifested physical reality as actual reality.

As I feared, after I finished scanning my black and white negatives, I've been working on a project to scan all my color negatives. It was really something going back to all these negatives and piecing together my past through film. It's an incomplete document, considering the negatives that got lost or thrown away.

I learned the hard way to never throw away negatives. If you're mad at someone, if you want to cut them out of your life, forget about them for dumping you to marry the person you always made fun of together, burn the pictures, toss them off the Golden Gate Bridge, feed them to your neighbor's ferret, but don't get rid of the negatives. Hide them, store them somewhere out of sight, out of mind. But if that person really did mean something to you, despite what they did to you, you will regret destroying the negatives.

It's difficult going through my past like this. What happened to all these people? What went wrong? How did I get here from there? It must all fit together with what I am now. And the only constant is that I don't belong here, I don't want to be here, my goal in life is to drop this kind of attachment to life in order to move on. Prove it to myself in the most drastic way.

My parents get back from vacation tomorrow. They've been gone for the past week and a half. I really need to get out of here.