(no subject)
"So what, did you think that I was sober? Put me out cause I'm on FUCKING Fire!"
I am forever thankful to one person: Alex Coughlin, for understanding the mechanics of my mind, sharing them, and getting out in the open things I never got to say in therapy. It's amazing how a lecture from your English teacher about one character from a lame school reading book prompts all these conversations in your head all day long.
School...i dunno. I'm not even thinking about it anymore. The only thing that stands in my mind is me and Deirdre having a political debate against Philmore in Chem class. Goddamn Bush Supporter. Art class...Mrs. Brown telling me she'd help me shade the face so it wouldn't be flat compared to her coat. Math...Meg writing funny quotes in my agenda. Another rainy day practice running circles in the gym, a figure that seems to characterize how I feel.
I fall short of any excuse for living. Right now I feel terrible. I feel like nothing. Like every accomplishment I struggle overmyself to make is meaningless, shoved down in a little hole and covered with dirt and condescended to by anyone I try to impress or relate to. Shoved down in the hole. And maybe someday someone will dig it up, find it by accident and be like HOLY FUCK! this girl, she was a little bit of something. So I look to my left and my right, and theres no one beside me- no one INSIDE me- to fix this.