I have a lonely heart in me that wont sit still.
Damn it damn it damn it
I'm an idiot, I really am, a bumbling hormonal idiot.
Why am I so frustrated? I don't understand it! I really don't. I've got this chagrin in me that clouds my head and turns my thoughts to things best not thought on. I've always fancied myself more mature than this; I thought I was above these kinds of thoughts. Survey, however, says no. I can't but barely help myself anymore; my thoughts are not my own anymore.
I've got to be bigger than this. Fuck you, hormones!
I've got this anger inside me that wont let me sleep, a bitter bitter hate that keeps me conscious. I thought about it when I was in church last Sunday, and I asked God with all my heart to help me. I hadn't come to God with much of anything for years at that point. I asked as sincerely as I could for a sign because honestly I feel sort of empty. I feel empty all the time. It drives me up the wall, it owns me most days. I went up for communion and I pleaded with earnest to find some sort of answer at the bottom of that communion cup, some sort of something worth seeing, something more than wine to fill me.
But no, all I did was choke on the wine. If there is a God somewhere up there, I'm sure he had a good hard laugh. Or maybe a chuckle, I figure that must have been worth a good chuckle at least. But in any case, I got the hint. Do you hear me? I get it. You won't hear from me anymore.
I guess I've got an emptiness in me that God can't fill.
I don't know anymore. I never did know. Fuck teenage years, and fuck all this. Forgive me if I sound like a whiny teen, because I am. I'm sorry, but I hope that writing this helps me in some way.
I hope I hope I hope.
I'm an idiot, I really am, a bumbling hormonal idiot.
Why am I so frustrated? I don't understand it! I really don't. I've got this chagrin in me that clouds my head and turns my thoughts to things best not thought on. I've always fancied myself more mature than this; I thought I was above these kinds of thoughts. Survey, however, says no. I can't but barely help myself anymore; my thoughts are not my own anymore.
I've got to be bigger than this. Fuck you, hormones!
I've got this anger inside me that wont let me sleep, a bitter bitter hate that keeps me conscious. I thought about it when I was in church last Sunday, and I asked God with all my heart to help me. I hadn't come to God with much of anything for years at that point. I asked as sincerely as I could for a sign because honestly I feel sort of empty. I feel empty all the time. It drives me up the wall, it owns me most days. I went up for communion and I pleaded with earnest to find some sort of answer at the bottom of that communion cup, some sort of something worth seeing, something more than wine to fill me.
But no, all I did was choke on the wine. If there is a God somewhere up there, I'm sure he had a good hard laugh. Or maybe a chuckle, I figure that must have been worth a good chuckle at least. But in any case, I got the hint. Do you hear me? I get it. You won't hear from me anymore.
I guess I've got an emptiness in me that God can't fill.
I don't know anymore. I never did know. Fuck teenage years, and fuck all this. Forgive me if I sound like a whiny teen, because I am. I'm sorry, but I hope that writing this helps me in some way.
I hope I hope I hope.