Hello. I'm your typical teenager.
My thoughts -
Emotionally, I'm loosing it.
I've spent the whole of this week trying so damn hard to forget feeling, to push it all away like it doesn't even matter. Eventually I figured that it might disappear for real.
Not going to happen.
Have you ever dropped a plate to the ground and watched it shatter into a hundred tiny pieces of porcelaine? Well, I'm that plate. Only, I wasn't one of those fancy, expensive dishes that are used when company comes for dinner. I was a normal, boring, run-of-the-mill plate. And when I was dropped, nobody cared. They cared about the mess of course, because nobody likes a mess. But as for the plate, no big deal. Accidents happen. Except I was thrown to the floor on purpose.
I could have a been a plate made of steel, like those blue speckled ones we use camping, or even one of that plastic the Tupperware company uses to manufacture it's plates. But no, it's my own fault I was made of porcelaine. I let it be that way. I'm a fucking idiot and a half.
I need to cry. It's just one of those methods of dealing with things. I cry alot, maybe too much. Usually about nothing. Sometimes I'm just pretending and I can make myself cry. Music too, it can do that same sort of thing. But I need to cry for real. It has to be real. Because I can't hide forever or it won't ever go away.
It's my fault. My fault. All I ever do is cause myself some sort of trauma.
God damnit I fucking hate myself so much sometimes. And it's not because of the fucking music I listen to either. I'm so sick of that..."listen to happy music it will make you feel better. This emo/screamo is making you sad." I'll listen to whatever I please thanks. I'll listen to the happy music when I'm happy, because otherwise it makes me feel ever lower.
I have a pretty fucking perfect life. I mean, just take a look at it. It's like a goddamn television sitcom. Okay, well, my parents are far from sitcom parents but they aren't bad parents. The hardest thing I have to deal with is myself. And I can't do that alone.
There. I admitted it to myself. I have feelings.
Are you fucking happy.
Because I'm not. Mind you, I'm never really all that happy.
I have happy times. But, overall, I'm just bitter.
Neutral, but neutral doesn't work for me. So I've become bitter.
I can't believe I actually have friends, what the hell are you guys thinking?
I need to scream.
I hate this. Hate it, hate it, hate it.
I've over-dramatic. I'm a waste of atoms. A waste of anyone's time. I honestly can't believe how much I suck.
I need a drug that stops feeling.
My Day -
RAWR. I slept for all of what - 2 hours? Then I worked. With Monique. We talked. It was dandy. Then I went to Megans. Then reality hit me. Then as I was walking in my house a huge boulder rolled of the roof and crushed my skull. =)
Oh no, that's right, I made that last bit up.
~ Just me [I was devestated too don't worry.]
Emotionally, I'm loosing it.
I've spent the whole of this week trying so damn hard to forget feeling, to push it all away like it doesn't even matter. Eventually I figured that it might disappear for real.
Not going to happen.
Have you ever dropped a plate to the ground and watched it shatter into a hundred tiny pieces of porcelaine? Well, I'm that plate. Only, I wasn't one of those fancy, expensive dishes that are used when company comes for dinner. I was a normal, boring, run-of-the-mill plate. And when I was dropped, nobody cared. They cared about the mess of course, because nobody likes a mess. But as for the plate, no big deal. Accidents happen. Except I was thrown to the floor on purpose.
I could have a been a plate made of steel, like those blue speckled ones we use camping, or even one of that plastic the Tupperware company uses to manufacture it's plates. But no, it's my own fault I was made of porcelaine. I let it be that way. I'm a fucking idiot and a half.
I need to cry. It's just one of those methods of dealing with things. I cry alot, maybe too much. Usually about nothing. Sometimes I'm just pretending and I can make myself cry. Music too, it can do that same sort of thing. But I need to cry for real. It has to be real. Because I can't hide forever or it won't ever go away.
It's my fault. My fault. All I ever do is cause myself some sort of trauma.
God damnit I fucking hate myself so much sometimes. And it's not because of the fucking music I listen to either. I'm so sick of that..."listen to happy music it will make you feel better. This emo/screamo is making you sad." I'll listen to whatever I please thanks. I'll listen to the happy music when I'm happy, because otherwise it makes me feel ever lower.
I have a pretty fucking perfect life. I mean, just take a look at it. It's like a goddamn television sitcom. Okay, well, my parents are far from sitcom parents but they aren't bad parents. The hardest thing I have to deal with is myself. And I can't do that alone.
There. I admitted it to myself. I have feelings.
Are you fucking happy.
Because I'm not. Mind you, I'm never really all that happy.
I have happy times. But, overall, I'm just bitter.
Neutral, but neutral doesn't work for me. So I've become bitter.
I can't believe I actually have friends, what the hell are you guys thinking?
I need to scream.
I hate this. Hate it, hate it, hate it.
I've over-dramatic. I'm a waste of atoms. A waste of anyone's time. I honestly can't believe how much I suck.
I need a drug that stops feeling.
My Day -
RAWR. I slept for all of what - 2 hours? Then I worked. With Monique. We talked. It was dandy. Then I went to Megans. Then reality hit me. Then as I was walking in my house a huge boulder rolled of the roof and crushed my skull. =)
Oh no, that's right, I made that last bit up.
~ Just me [I was devestated too don't worry.]