Im guilty of magnifying my miseries. I've not mentioned dissection in a good light at all- the smell are certainly unpleasant, but im engrossed in what im doing.
First up, the people who donate their bodies to science are, to quote the cliche, giving a great contribution to us and science. They're stellar and legends in my book. I know its a great thing to do, but i wont do it. My organs i'll donate but not the rest of me.
Initially i was freaked out by the thought of it, cutting open the body of a formerly-alive person. On the day i faked bravery and went for it. I really didnt want touch the body or breath even. The smell was making me feel physically sick. I said a prayer, to ward off any bad spirits and asking for the strength to stay standing through the day.
I managed it though, and learnt a lot. I learnt a lot because of you, person-who-donated your body. Thank you.
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Later: 9th march 2006. This is so secret im hiding it here
I'm secretly very, very lonely. Im still a sad loner freak who has no friends. No one to hang out with on a friday night. No one to hang out with, ever.
I need constant love, attention and praise- if i dont i feel worthless
I've never been kissed
There's no one to call if i need to hear a friendly voice at 2 in the morning
Its been this way for a long time, if not forever. Is there something wrong with me?
I dont remember things as well as i used to. Im only 22, i cant be losing my memory, can i?
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