I always come back to you
I'm going to change my layout soon, I will. I love playing with html, I just never get around to do it. I'm a busy little bee this semester. I got a hundred on my first exam! Whoo! I also discovered that the key to concentration is magical. Ahhh..
I'm going home this weekend, so's Matt, Tonya, Kyle, Steph, etc. It should be fun. I am celebrating my birthday a week early since my parents won't be in the state on my birthday due to a moose hunting trip.
I feel. Different. Wrong? No. Just.. Different. Not empty, hollow perhaps? No, just unsettled. I find myself constantly revisiting memories, good ones. Good memories that make me sad and lonely. Even though I'm happy and satisfied. I can't explain how I don't want to digress.
I have this habit in which I don't ever say what I'm fully thinking but if you were to know me well you would understand exactly what I mean. But I don't know who may read this, and I don't want people to know what I'm thinking anymore than I want to know what people are thinking. Except maybe in a few situations I'd like to know, but I never will.
I'm not talking in circles and I'm not crazy. I'm not a slut, I'm not a cunt, I don't hate anyone and I don't love anyone. I have a conceptual theory about love. It's too bad it's a figment of everyone's effing imagination, huh.
I was sitting on a bench, yeah, that one. It has a name engraved into it which is actually quite coincidental. And I cried, but I wasn't sad. I was just thinking about all of the other times I've sat on that sad bench. I hate that it's over and gone, I hate that I think about anything other than what I've been dealt. I am selfish and I really ought not take advantage of things that could easily slip away.
This is hard. Now that I think about it, I don't think one person knows what I'm ever talking about because I don't tell anyone anything anymore. I used to. Until I stopped understanding myself. People can't very well understand how you feel about a situation if you aren't willing to face your internal conflicts yourself.
It's because I'm indecisive. It's because I'm too afraid of hurting anyone. Or of being hurt.
Thus, I'm untouchable. Invulnerable. Unattainable. To everyone.
Almost everyone.
It's effed up.
I'm going home this weekend, so's Matt, Tonya, Kyle, Steph, etc. It should be fun. I am celebrating my birthday a week early since my parents won't be in the state on my birthday due to a moose hunting trip.
I feel. Different. Wrong? No. Just.. Different. Not empty, hollow perhaps? No, just unsettled. I find myself constantly revisiting memories, good ones. Good memories that make me sad and lonely. Even though I'm happy and satisfied. I can't explain how I don't want to digress.
I have this habit in which I don't ever say what I'm fully thinking but if you were to know me well you would understand exactly what I mean. But I don't know who may read this, and I don't want people to know what I'm thinking anymore than I want to know what people are thinking. Except maybe in a few situations I'd like to know, but I never will.
I'm not talking in circles and I'm not crazy. I'm not a slut, I'm not a cunt, I don't hate anyone and I don't love anyone. I have a conceptual theory about love. It's too bad it's a figment of everyone's effing imagination, huh.
I was sitting on a bench, yeah, that one. It has a name engraved into it which is actually quite coincidental. And I cried, but I wasn't sad. I was just thinking about all of the other times I've sat on that sad bench. I hate that it's over and gone, I hate that I think about anything other than what I've been dealt. I am selfish and I really ought not take advantage of things that could easily slip away.
This is hard. Now that I think about it, I don't think one person knows what I'm ever talking about because I don't tell anyone anything anymore. I used to. Until I stopped understanding myself. People can't very well understand how you feel about a situation if you aren't willing to face your internal conflicts yourself.
It's because I'm indecisive. It's because I'm too afraid of hurting anyone. Or of being hurt.
Thus, I'm untouchable. Invulnerable. Unattainable. To everyone.
Almost everyone.
It's effed up.