4/29/25 - 4/30/25 Oil Change

There's a part of me that thinks I was right, about the impression I made. I think I intimidated her a little bit, I think I made myself unwelcome. I don't know what specifically might have done it, or if it was just something on the whole that was jarring about me. But I could feel it was the last time I was gonna see them when I saw them.

I think that I bore him. I think that I'm not what he needed to see that day, that I was just in the way. I can't imagine... I can't imagine if he knew.

I think it might have been my eye contact. I'm not good at that. I think I unsettle people, and I think that might be part of why.

Maybe its because I'm a tranny.

I don't know. What I do know, is that there's a sickness going on. It's a pathological nightmare, a poison that's seeping from my mind into every crevice of my being right now. It is a demon, that has possessed my thoughts with an impurity. It felt very sweet at first, like a little passing crush, brought upon by proximity. I thought maybe that was it.

But it persists. The more I try not to think about it, it grows and grows. It is overflowing to the extent that I can't contain the thougt of it anymore. I am beside myself.

I am obsessed with them. I can't stop thinking about them. I don't know what's wrong with me, or how to stop this madness. It seems really unserious or silly to write down, which might help a tad. But it's like... a weight, now. 

I think about his arms, and his tattoo. I think about her hair, and her voice. I think about his work, his mind, her work, her mind. I'm possessed by a perversion.

I discussed it with another, and they felt the same... it's not just me. But maybe it is?

I don't just listen, is the problem. I want to see them every day, I want to be part of their work. Of their world, it's so much greener on their side.

I know I gave the wrong impression when last we met. The saw my face, I was frustrated, and tired. They couldn't know, what was really going on behind that face.

I can never talk to them again. I have to ignore them, if they ever reach out. They are friends, they mean no harm. Their intentions are kind, they are... civilized.

This never leaves this room, you understand?

I got my oil changed yesterday. All I could think about was, "finally, I can make the trip up there again."

I almost wanted to stab myself in the throat for thinking that. What... is wrong?

I wish that it was raining then. I could have sat in the car for a moment, and let the noise of the rain drown me out. I thought I was alone, but I've discovered that this illness is very friendly. It's infectious, how wonderful.

I'll end it here. I hope I never see them again, for their own sakes. I wish them the best.