Ankles

God, if I fuck up both of my ankles, then I'll be thoroughly screwed. And people will laugh at me. Ouch, ou.

Distant.

I keep...thinking in theories, distancing myself from the truth of reality.

In theory, I would be happier without my parents together. Or, rather, with my father gone. In theory, I'd be just fine without my family. But when the threat of reality comes near, I can feel myself panicking. Because I can't handle that kind of reality. There are emotional scars that come from these kinds of things.

In theory, I can kill a man in my head in such gruesome ways, you'd think a horrid monster had done the deed. But it isn't real. I can't stand the reality. I could rip of your arm in my head, or gouge out your eyes, but if I start to stare at you and picture that actuality, picture it happening to the body I know best--my own, things start quivering.

So you'll never understand me.

Especially not those calm adults who look at these workings of my mind and don't understand how safe I really am.

...It's like, somehow, I want to be creepy. Want to be special, different. In that incredibly odd way...why am I doing that, again?

Reasons

Why You Should Hate Me:

1. I need love
2. I talk to myself.
3. When angered, I get remorselessly violent.
4. I lash out at others when I'm in too much pain
5. I linger over pain for far too long
6. I don't trust other people, though occasionally I do too easily...this always turns out for the worst.
7. I'm occasionally flakey...I will beat myself up over this later. Depending on the gravity of the situation, I'll regret it longer or shorter...your emotions decide this.
8. I'm always late.

Why You Should Like Me

1. I care.
2. I have a passion for my hobbies; expressly, reading and writing.
3. I will throw away dignity and social stance to sing and dance to a song I like. (conversely, I never feel comfortable dancing)
4. I value truth.

Random Facts

• I'm delicate in the heart, strong in the head
• I force myself to get through difficult times without relying on others if I don't think help is necessary
• I don't eat lunch during the weekdays. Expressly on Mondays and Wednesdays. Tuesdays and Thursdays I just skip an early meal.
• I occasionally think I'm pretty.
• My time spent alone is bringing out the parts of me the uncomfortable anxious part of me keeps suppressing...and it's leaking out into public. This is good..in a way.
• I follow my whims.
• I want to be elegant and flexible.

Please love me. Love me for me. Faults and all. Craziness and abnormality. Everything.

God, I'll never make a single friend.

I'm working on finding myself. Let's see where this goes from here.

Clockwork's Not Ticking Properly..

I feel like I'm slowly shrinking, taking with me a feeling of disinterest in everything due to the fear implanted in my heart.

Am I lonely?

Leaking Tears

I don't know why, but last night and this morning, my eyes just randomly tear up with no emotion behind them, or at all...is it allergies, perhaps?

The place where I am now...I like it. But I don't think it'll exist after this ever again.

Really?

Do people even like me? Do I even like me?

Gah, being in such a nice environment is something so odd, I wish I could be in it more...though, truth be told, even there I'm still terrified.

Of disappointing them. Of being hated. Despised.

Stop.

Stop insulting the thing that fills my heart so completely

and lightens my anxious footsteps

makes me forget about those fears

and just breathe out those words of others

quietly,

for myself.

Leaving Traces

You spread out those words, those truths, across the vast expanse of the internet, trying to prove, to everyone and yourself that you were here, you did exist, and the you that existed, the things you left behind, will not be forgotten.

You will not be forgotten.

Because there's always something lingering behind...

Worst Parents in the World

I made this commitment, and I'm trying my hardest to keep to it, and not only do they seem to care less that I'm late while I'm sitting here stressing over it but they're encouraging me to just ditch it and go shopping.

I hate them. I hate this. Fuck it all.

I don't know why people hate me, but I think it's just natural that they do.

Losing Confidence

Sorry but I don't have the confidence to keep things out there for more than ten minutes without having the worry and fear of disapproval overcoming my natural action of leaving things alone being overridden and me deleting the things I have said.

Why has approval become so important as of late? It's like I'm being crushed, suffocated by this gnawing worry. Even in the classes where I have "friends." If you can even call them that. They keep disappearing.

I don't belong. I don't belong.

And here I go, closing off from everything and everyone once more.

While at the same time wanting to open up so much.

We deserve much better than we have.

I don't need love.

Meal Time

Three meals a day,

Three meals a day,
Three meals a day.

Scene change:

College time.

Two meals a day,

Two meals a day.

Scene change:

Theatre.

One meal a day,

snack.

This isn't..

Maybe it's because my sense of morality is so warped, but the things they abhor so deeply, cutting into the very core of their being...I think little of. That dead girl shouldn't hold such significance...

And again, I ask myself, why am I reading this?

It's Over Now

I didn't think it would end up this way...being so cruelly used every time something that really didn't matter made you upset. Every time you overreacted to each little situation, at the age of 14, smoking and drinking to wash your worries away...because you had it so tough, right?

The people online causing you so much drama that you need to resort to unhealthy illegal means? Then stop it. Distance yourself. That's the best way to do it. Stop investing so much in people. You'll only end up hurt in the end.

And you know what?

I trusted you. Trusted you with way too much. More than I've trusted with people who actually care about me, and care about me still.

Seems I was wrong.

Go.

What is it that I'm becoming, slowly, day by day?

Who is it that I'm turning into?