damn i have't written in forever...
I'm not sure what sparked this but basically i have become a housing device for a bunch of horded spare emotions. I'm pretty pissed off right now and I'm not exactly sure why. is it maybe because I'm bitter with my mother? or maybe the fact that my best friend of 12 years has a new life and a kid and a fiance or whatever and hasn't even thought to call me in months? or is it the fact that i am floating in between other people's already-existing and comfortable lives and relationships and not quite sure where i fit in? maybe that i have no friends at my school and hate being there and don't understand how to just fucking get with the program and comfortably be like everyone else? or maybe that all of my friends are potheads and are constantly smoking weed and rendering themselves useless, boring, and inconsiderate? or maybe that I'm sick of people constantly criticizing how i look and my fucking ear lobes and tongue ring and just fucking let it go and let me do what i need to do? or the fact that i can't handle anything in my body without feeling sick or having panic attacks? or the fact that i am lonely? or that i can almost physically feel my closest relationships disintegrating? maybe that i haven't had meaningful physical contact with anyone or a love interest at all in almost a year? or the fact that i over-analyze everything and am sick of crying all the time because i feel so strongly for people i don't even know? so much to choose from i can't decide which to hone in on first.
I found out I'm finally getting a new car, and i freaked out posting on my facebook that im getting a 2009 brand new blue Nissan versa and a few minutes after obsessing i read online that Natasha Richardson died at age 45 of a skiing accident, and boy, did i feel ridiculous and petty after that. i cried, of course. people die and are lonely and all that stuff and i feel almost solely responsible for it, as if it's my responsibility to feel the sadness to make up for the millions of people who don't care. it's kind of a burden, being so hyper-aware of all my surroundings because I'm hording everything i feel in a tiny little place and it's starting to get really cramped. i can't even put this all down so it makes any sense because I'm thinking too fast to form complete and individual thoughts, so if anyone actually reads this (which i can't tell if i want anyone to or not) i apologize.
i'm just so sad this is really pathetic.
ps: sorry you had to drive me home and end your night early, but more importantly sorry i haven't just let it the fuck go.
I found out I'm finally getting a new car, and i freaked out posting on my facebook that im getting a 2009 brand new blue Nissan versa and a few minutes after obsessing i read online that Natasha Richardson died at age 45 of a skiing accident, and boy, did i feel ridiculous and petty after that. i cried, of course. people die and are lonely and all that stuff and i feel almost solely responsible for it, as if it's my responsibility to feel the sadness to make up for the millions of people who don't care. it's kind of a burden, being so hyper-aware of all my surroundings because I'm hording everything i feel in a tiny little place and it's starting to get really cramped. i can't even put this all down so it makes any sense because I'm thinking too fast to form complete and individual thoughts, so if anyone actually reads this (which i can't tell if i want anyone to or not) i apologize.
i'm just so sad this is really pathetic.
ps: sorry you had to drive me home and end your night early, but more importantly sorry i haven't just let it the fuck go.