I'm still a girl and more importantly, I'm still human. And I'm an extremely sentimental, reminiscent, cornball. And you're all really hurting me. And I'm hurting myself. Looks like it's me vs. the world, and i've been drifting to the other side. Well, I've been drifting to my own little world and I'm just looking for someone to join me.
i've put aside my terrible mood since that entry because i think i found a new vice. i'd know if it was effective if i would face my fear but i guess i'll just have to wait. even if it's not, it still helps. *waiting for something miraculous and magical to discontinue my irrational behavior and mindset*
of all nights it really hurts. And I can't describe what I'm feeling but the frustration and anger is overwhelming. And I've been thinking about it all day, and I think about it my whole life, and I just wish it were different. I guess I wish I was different. This might sound all sloppy but I don't care. I can't keep my thoughts straight so I won't bother trying to keep my words straight. People. I...can't stand them. I just want to flip out on every one of them but I don't even know what to say. First the ego's and now the assumptions they make about me. Every day, especially lately, people have the nerve to tell me about myself. They have the nerve to insult me and tell me what a trashy whore I am. At least imply it. And I can't be too mad at them because maybe I do practically allow them to say things like that but everyone's so fucking judgmental. Fucking get over yourself. You're not perfect and that idiotic biased idea of what's normal that has been beat into your head isn't the fucking guidelines to life. None of you are right and I'm not saying that I am either. Stop judging and stop obsessing over yourself. People disgust me. Ironic, isn't it? Of course I am the disgusting one with my nasty actions, right? I let people know a lot about myself. Why? Maybe it's because I have no secrets. Because if it happened, it might as well be known. If only I know, I might drive myself crazy one day wondering if it really did happen. Other people knowing makes it feel like it really did happen. Also because back in 8th grade and before when I was depressed and I don't even remember but I just remember that I kept everything bottled up and it was awful. And I realized getting it out made me feel better, talking about it made me feel better. I don't like secrets. I really really don't. My secrets are the first I'll tell. I've already wrote a bit and I'm still raging with anger. This isn't what usually happens...I usually calm down. I'm not getting calmer. But knowing that more people are going to rub their ivy's in my face this weekend, and knowing that i have to work for 24 more hours this weekend after already working today, and knowing i'm going to fail a test on othello, and knowing that I have to face people that i just want to rip apart limb by limb, and knowing that i won't get into college, and knowing that the one thing i want will never come my way, and all of these things just aren't allowing my heart to stop racing. they're not allowing my fingertips to stop, they're not allowing my eyes to stop bouncing from my buddy list to my pillow to my phone to my wall and all over the place. I don't know what to do and I don't know where to go and I don't know who to go to. Because as nice as it was having friends, i went too far. I tried to establish connections, i tried to be nice, i tried to make friends, i tried to have people to talk to at any time of the day so I would have a personal feeling of popularity. So I would feel significant in multiple people's lives. So now I have people. I have all of these people, some that I don't even like, some that I could barely tolerate, some that i love sometimes but wind up hating when I hate the whole world anyway. So yeah, I have all of these people, and then comes the question of what makes any one of them any better than the other. What sets person a apart from person b-z. Nothing, really. Day by day I find each persons differences yet at the end of the week they're pretty much all the same. All girls complain about the same things and all guys pretend to have that careless attitude about bitches and life. And at the end of the day, everyone has their insecurities. And everyone thinks about either that special someone or a handful of people that just contributed to their day. And eventually, everyone forgets. Everyone moves on. Everyone but me, I guess. I know, I know. I'm not a special little snowflake. There's nothing good about me. I can't keep a friend for too long for whatever reason; either I get sick of them or they get sick of me. I have no motivation or will power. I can't get anyone to like me. And I'm going to stop writing before I explode. That last sentence indicates that this is not healthy...I never stop writing when I feel like that. Never.
i've formed so many close friendships that none of them are even special. i have no secrets so i don't know myself any better than any friend of mine. i hop around from person to person either not be clingy or annoying to any one person or because some people just can't keep my interest for an extended period of time, your pick.
