If you keep asking me I'll melt away in the summer air.
This morning my father bought a house in bellwood. I will be going to Bellwood-Antis High School as of August 2006.
I am speechless anymore. I try to explain myself and I can't. I am so indecisive it's gotten to the point of affecting my test-taking abilities. I cannot take multiple choice tests.
I don't know what I want. I never know what I want. When I think I know what I want, I'm wrong. I push it away. I push everything away. I don't know why I like to be alone so much when I actually hate it.
Some people need to learn that there really is a difference between telling the truth and being rude. Some things are better left unsaid. So many things are said unnecessarily. Why do we say them? It can't be for satisfaction. It is, though. That is so sick. We are so twisted.
Sometimes I really like myself. Other times I strongly dislike myself.
I am so afraid to tell people how I feel anymore in fear of being ridiculed. It doesn't have to be like this. I wasn't always afraid. I can't remember when I started caring what other people thought of me. I can't remember when I stopped caring what I would become.
I have no feeling.
I have no sympathy.
I have no motivation.
I have no energy.
I have no morals.
I have no ambitions.
I have no future.
I have a journal of countless complaints. And a handful of 'friends' that I associate with via the internet. And I don't have the will to change it.
I am speechless anymore. I try to explain myself and I can't. I am so indecisive it's gotten to the point of affecting my test-taking abilities. I cannot take multiple choice tests.
I don't know what I want. I never know what I want. When I think I know what I want, I'm wrong. I push it away. I push everything away. I don't know why I like to be alone so much when I actually hate it.
Some people need to learn that there really is a difference between telling the truth and being rude. Some things are better left unsaid. So many things are said unnecessarily. Why do we say them? It can't be for satisfaction. It is, though. That is so sick. We are so twisted.
Sometimes I really like myself. Other times I strongly dislike myself.
I am so afraid to tell people how I feel anymore in fear of being ridiculed. It doesn't have to be like this. I wasn't always afraid. I can't remember when I started caring what other people thought of me. I can't remember when I stopped caring what I would become.
I have no feeling.
I have no sympathy.
I have no motivation.
I have no energy.
I have no morals.
I have no ambitions.
I have no future.
I have a journal of countless complaints. And a handful of 'friends' that I associate with via the internet. And I don't have the will to change it.