Somewhere Deep Within The Vaseline.

I have been reading a lot of journals.
I want to rant... again. I am quite apathetic to who may comment on this.

I have just spent the last few hours polishing my boots really carefully; just one boot so far. Since, I am in Platoon 1 now, I must have immaculate dress. In the lounge room, lay my Slouch Hat covered in 10-Year-Old Enyclopedias.

I am hurt all over, I woke up with more bruises.

The crack addict across the road, still thinks it is absolutely okay to scream all night and morning keeping me from precious sleep. I haven't done as much exercise as I would like to. My charming, ex-boyfriend decided to get in contact with me. Why would I want to talk to him? WHY?

In my blue eyes, relationships are disgusting. They are a complete waste of time and strive of one another's affection towards eachother. I hate human contact. Hate it. Holding hands, kissing... humans are very disgusting. I don't need a boyfriend, I don't want a boyfriend. I don't need friends. They only way I get in contact with my friends is through Facebook. They are all a bunch off sodding depressants who choose to be room dwellers. Ek! I am a hermit, so... BOOBS OR GTFO! Though, every now and then, I do need someone to touch me... that could not have sounded worse.

4chan, ladies? I spend too much time on the sexist, degrading, horrible, racist site. Meh!

Pump me with Gamma radiation.

Question:

Does anyone posess the power to be able to massage me, without actually touching me?

I am sorry if nothing makes sense. I innocent!