21 Febuary 2000-I have been very periodic in keeping up with this journal, but I think it will become more and more frequent as time goes on.  I must get into the habit, I guess, before it sticks.  I alienated someone else today, a nice perky Goth girl who is very sick.  I didn't mean to, but then, I guess that is the way it goes.  At the rate I'm going now, I will be disliked by every Goth in Alabama by the end of Febuary, in the southeast by the end of March, and maybe by this time next year every Goth in the US if I can make it to Convergence 7 next year.  I wish that I could be like some of the people that I've seen, those who seem so smooth and graceful, the people who have lots of money, carefree people, people who have someone who loves them.  I think of those people and it is all I can do not to cry.  Because I know deep in my heart of hearts that I will never be like them.  I can only be who I am.  Riddled with doubt and errors, crudely made like the armour of a peasant.  I remember I used to have Faith,but I gave it up for Magick.  I used to have Magick, but that slowly fades as I grasp for Survival.  All of these things I grasped for for the sake of Happiness, and instead of seeming closer, it seems further away than ever.  I am not Goth, I am not Magickal.  I am nothing but a pack of cards surrounded by traitors.