My Telltale Heart

Okay, so I really should be starting to work on my book, but I feel like, the more I store up for it, the more will pour out of me when the time comes.

Plus, I really need a computer/laptop so that I can actually, you know, have a program to write in.

Oh, and I mustn't forget. I have competition: Some woman in Russia just released a Leroux sequel herself. Not good, not good, I tell you. This puts a wrench in my plans if her story is at all similar to mine... But I'll get her. I mustn't let anyone get the better of me on this. I need to get my story out even if it makes crazy little Russian girls cry.

So, besides all that though, I'm still sick as a dog. For a week straight now, this is just...draining the life out of me. I can feel myself losing weight because of it. I don't eat much anymore, just because...well, not only am I depressed, but I'm also just kinda' wasting away from the sickness.

I took a nap today, well, more like I actually passed out. I was so weak. About an hour later, I woke up, and here was the strange thing: I woke up because I could heard my heart pulsating loudly in my ears. That's how congested I am. My heart beat actually woke me up.

I'm dreaming about Erik every night it seems. He looks different each time, but oddly, he doesn't wear his mask in my dreams - ever. But he's always there. And I've said it before to my mom, but it's a strange feeling to sit there and think "I wouldn't have been good enough for him. He wouldn't like me, because I'm not elegant and pretty enough."

...Doesn't that defeat the purpose of me being the way I am?

Accepting no matter what the situation?

I don't know. It's all strange. But maybe my self esteem still influences some of my thoughts, and I do believe I have Erik on a pedestal. I worship him.

*sighs* But still, I can't really prove how much I adore him since he isn't alive anymore. Again, I have to wait until Paris. Wait until I get to Paris. Paris, Paris, Paris...
Only seven more months...

Besides that, I ...really... want to go to school. I'm getting sick of this ...stagnant life.

...and just because I want to say it: "Pustule".