Ever get the invisible feeling? Where you just turn super emo just start wishing you were dead because you can’t do a single thing without getting sternly spoken to? Yeah, that’s how I’ve been for a while. And the worst part is afterwards I just cry and I can’t help it. I just hate the feeling of being a disappointment to someone. The crying just makes me feel like even less, because I don’t want someone to feel like they can’t tell me what they think of me because I’m going to break down and overdose on drugs or something. Because I won’t! I swear. I just, I remember all those times where my mom, sister, friend, teacher, or whomever was basically yelling at me telling me what I do wrong. And memories apparently don’t know when they should just black themselves out. So, I just break down. It’s like my dying day everyday. I hate having a good memory sometimes, because every shitty thing I do… I always remember it and I just break down. Crying makes me feel juvenile and fragile. The worst of course is when the person sees me crying and then feels bad. I keep trying to say “I’m FINE! I’m JUST FINE!” and then it just comes out as a splutter of tears. I don’t need your sympathy. I just need to feel human again.
I just, I feel… complex. This whole week, I could hardly sum up how I’ve been feeling. I feel fake and stupid. I feel lonely and cold. I feel like I’m falling and I know no one’s at the bottom. All there is, is darkness. I feel pressured and nervous. There’s exams coming up next week and frankly, I’m just not ready. Neither studying wise nor mentally. I mean, soon the year is going to be over and soon there’ll be college. I’m scared, terrified. What do I want to do with my life? I used to think I wanted to be a doctor. Then a journalist. Then just the dream of being a rock star, psh… like that’ll happen. I guess, as for my future, all I really know is… well, I want to start a revolution. Not one of those ridiculous ones I joke about to my friends, a real revolution. I want to die feeling like I impacted someone. I want to die knowing I saved a life. Just like, as cheesy as this sounds, music and writing saves my life everyday. Everyone wants me to do something glorious with my life. I don’t know what I want anymore! I’ve been raised that I can do anything as long as I’m rich. Well, what if I’m not rich? What if I die searching for my dreams? Would you hate me? Even if I died wearing my first true smile on my face?
I want to impact someone. But isn’t that the dream of everyone? To die famous? Well, most of all I just want to save a life. I want to look down onto the future of the Earth as a dead soul and smile knowing I helped steer the world in the right direction. Aren’t I an idiot? I’m pretty much terrified of anyone popular. I’m just easily intimidated by them. I mean, if they’ve got so many people to talk to, why talk to someone that’s the true cause of awkward situations, sometimes just doesn’t reply, and would rather sit alone in her room singing to some song somehow related to suicide and typing the newest entry to her xanga.
I write crappy songs, poems, and stories. I’ve accepted it. I used to think that just maybe my “friend” was wrong when she said I couldn’t do anything. That’s why it’s so hard to talk to my friends sometimes. I’m always so terrified of saying something wrong or doing something wrong, I don’t think any of them actually know who I am. It’s like I’m a complete different person in my sanctuary, my room, and around my friends, sometimes even family. Does this make me paranoid? Or just idiotically antisocial? I’m a boring person, but I lie. I lie more than I should. I lie enough to get a job as an actress. I’m a mirror, I’ll show you what you want to see.
I like to write when I feel lonely because I can write someone into the poem or story and I feel like I have a friend that hasn’t completely deserted me yet. I cry more than I should, but I hate it. I’m a contradiction. I’m self-conscious and antisocial at times. But sometimes when I get nervous about talking to someone, I just talk and talk, sounding like a complete mindless idiot. I need someone to talk to other than my headphones and my blogs and journals. I want to feel needed. I feel like a complete failure at times. I lie a lot. I say, “I’m fine.” a lot. I pretend things don’t hurt and say things are fine when I’m about to break down. I hide in corners, hoping no one will ever find me. I’m afraid of butterflies. Sometimes I feel a little suicidal, but I’m a coward. I’m envious of most of the people in my life. I wish on stars and pray to nameless gods that someone will save me. I don’t like to sleep. I write on myself and others a lot. I’d feel more comfortable talking to a stranger I don’t know, as long as they don’t know who I am, than when talking to someone I know. I hate mirrors and pictures of myself. I wish I was pretty, because no matter what people say about inner beauty… even if I had it, no one gives a shit about that anymore. I like to sit and stare out my window a lot. I like to take pictures. I like singing when no one can hear me. I wish my life was like a cheesy romance movie. My one goal in life is to find my soul mate. Sometimes, I just don’t believe in love. I like wearing hoodies and keeping the hood up. Music’s my life’s savior. I get aggravated easily.
The confessional’s full of dirty thoughts and empty promises; I know you can relate.
“We’ll he’s on the table and he’s gone to code,
And I do not think anyone knows what they are doing here.
And your friends have left too, you’ve been dismissed,
I never thought it would come to this.
And I, I want you to know
Everyone’s got to face down the demons.
Maybe today, we can put the past away.”