I feel like I've had an epiphany...
I just finished watching American Beauty. Wow. I think the purpose of that movie is to teach you that life is beautiful, and that you should live each day to its fullest. But after watching it, I just feel so...numb. I want to run down the streets screaming and beating and breaking things. I want the demons to fly out of my mouth and back into Hell. I want them to flow out of my fingertips and onto the keyboard. The paper. The notepad. I want to be set free.
My boyfriend is out at the club. I saw him earlier tonight - around ten. I hate it when he goes out and parties without me. Because I know how he gets when he drinks. And I know that he is attractive, so women would have no problem trying to hit on him. Or dance with him. I trust him. I don't trust other people around him.
I don't feel like being here right now. I feel like leaving. I don't know where I would go, but I just want to get away. This is exactly what I wrote about in my last post - the urge to just RUN. If only I knew what it was that I was running away from...Actually, I think I do know. It's just...if only I knew how to stop myself from running. How to just turn around, face the fear and the anxiety and the pain and just fucking KILL it. Murder the fucking thing. Show it all of the pain that it has caused me and MORE.
But then I would be killing myself. And suicide is never the answer...right?
My boyfriend is out at the club. I saw him earlier tonight - around ten. I hate it when he goes out and parties without me. Because I know how he gets when he drinks. And I know that he is attractive, so women would have no problem trying to hit on him. Or dance with him. I trust him. I don't trust other people around him.
I don't feel like being here right now. I feel like leaving. I don't know where I would go, but I just want to get away. This is exactly what I wrote about in my last post - the urge to just RUN. If only I knew what it was that I was running away from...Actually, I think I do know. It's just...if only I knew how to stop myself from running. How to just turn around, face the fear and the anxiety and the pain and just fucking KILL it. Murder the fucking thing. Show it all of the pain that it has caused me and MORE.
But then I would be killing myself. And suicide is never the answer...right?