Reflecting.
I woke up at eight:thirty, then I fell back asleep. I then woke up again to my sister's voice at ten:twenty seven AM. My mother was out living her life while Brigitta and I cleaned the house. A man is coming today to fix up our bath-tub, to make it look nice for selling.
I'm moving to New Jersey in the second week of August. I'm not too bashed up about it though. To me it seems like no one here needs me to go on. I know that that's pretty drastic to ask of someone, but I just would like to feel like I meant something to someone, anyone. My own best friend, Aleeie, I told her about me leaving, and I guess she had better things to do. I know it's probably my own insecurities that make me think this way, but not everything can be in my head. The last month of school I was hated by my closest friends. They had enough of my bitchy outlook on everything, they wanted nothing to do with me. So I sat, still for a very long time sucking it up, they got over it after I falsely apologized for actions that I did not commit. After everything was said and done, there was still and ice cold, hard hatred between them and I. I felt trapped. I hung out with them because I didn't want to be alone, I had to monitor what thoughts I shared with them. Apparently, some were too much. Those people weren't friends, but enemies. I was planning on telling them all off on the last day, (I knew I was moving) but, I didn't. The thing is, I'm a dreamer, a follower, and a self hater. I wish I was someone else, as a child I would fanatisize about death. I really went through a breakdown whenever I was about twelve. I went through an anorexic period, and attempted self harm. Life isn't as bad anymore but every now and then, something pops up that I've hidden away for the sake of myself.
The reason why this diary, journal, what have you, isn't private is because I feel like I'm done pretending, I just want to rid myself of everything that I find imperfect. The public is a perfect trash can, they eat it all up.