Reality.

I like bleeding.

This is a strange thing to admit, but I feel it's right to talk about something that makes you happy. Bleeding makes me happy.

I can't exactly describe what it does for me, something about seeing my blood as useless instead of something that keeps me alive makes me feel content.

Sometimes I think... I'm not troubled, because I just want attention. That's all anybody wants, right? Attention. And I'm not talking about romantic love, I have that. I'm happy with that. It's everything else I'm craving. Friends, family. Especially family, my own family... And I hate that I crave that at such a young age.

But then I think, anybody who puts themselves through this kind of tormenting must be troubled, regardless of their intentions. Actually going through with it says a lot more about a person.

I'm watching this movie, it's called "The Good Girl," with Jennifer Aniston and Jake Gyllenhaal. It's a good movie. She questions her entire world, feels out of place. She begins an affair with Jake Gyllenhaal's character, but eventually she sees that he is too young, immature, and obsessive. Things got chaotic from there. She realizes at the end she was just using this boy as an escape from reality, and nobody can truly escape reality. Though apparently in the DVD version, her realization is that you can, in fact, escape reality.

So that's my question right now, can we? Can we escape reality?
And if we can... should we?

I haven't been making any more mistakes. I haven't been escaping. I'm done with it. I'm trying my best to make reality beautiful.

Hang on another day

I keep thinking I should just do it.

My heart hurts. It hurts all the time. I don't know any other way to make it stop.

But... there's so much more. I shouldn't give up so easily. I shouldn't give up on myself.

The ache though. The unsteadiness. The pain. I just can't take it anymore.

My bad habits don't even help. This is a much bigger problem. This is something that temporary fun and happiness can't take away.




I need help. I'm screaming for it, but nobody's listening.

Fa la la la la la la la la

7 Weird things about myself.

1. I talk to myself. Okay, everyone does this. However, I realized I strike up conversation whenever I'm alone with my reflection. I ask questions and propose answers. Also I swear at myself A LOT. Whenever I do something stupid, mostly, and that happens often.
2. I bite my toenails. Num num num. I despise any clipping devices, and I'm obsessed with biting, so I must.
3. Sometimes I scratch myself hard enough to get a scab just so I can pick the scab. I'm addicted to picking scabs in a very unhealthy way...
4. I kiss my pillow. Don't judge. When planning out the perfect kiss it is just good practice.
5. After Spanish class I'm frightened that I will not be able to speak in English the rest of the day. Not exactly sure why I think that or am so afraid of that happening.
6. I put myself into weird positions to watch tv. It usually involves my legs being above my head and my back being extremely bent.
7. I look up pictures of hot female celebrities all the time. It's probably because I'm obsessed with hair and makeup and clothes, but I still think it's a problem and I need help.

*******************************************************************************

I love dance class. Dance class makes me feel good about myself, gets me in shape, and is a blast. It's the redeeming aspect of my life at the moment. Right now, my writing sucks, I lead a boring weekly routine, and I have limited friends. BUT I dance. I dance a lot, and I dance my heart out. :)

I MISS CHAMBER SINGERS AND BROADWAY BOUND!!!!!!!

Lost.

I still feel lost. Why is everyone else finding their way? Why am I the only one still clinging on to everything that used to be? Why can't I let go?

Part 5 is coming soon!

I've realized that when I write about my life, something beautiful happens to my writing... Even reading it back to myself, I feel like I'm back exactly in the moment it happened. Perhaps this is because it's my own reflection, but I get the feeling others could relate to it.

I need a little more time. I've been thinking and writing in my notebook the last couple weeks, and there will be a bunch of things coming at once.

What if?

What if tomorrow, I'm not loved?
What if, everything suddenly changed?

What if he says... this all isn't worth it.
What if he says... the timing just isn't right.
What if he says, the worst... I've met someone else, and I just can't get her out of my head.

I'm a little nervous. I've felt more vulnerable than this before, yes, but... this is still just so different. I'm actually in love with someone who is nothing short of a great guy. He's fantastical.

And me? I'm alright. I think... I can be funny. I think I have good taste in music, movies, and literature. I'm always smiling. But what if there are a hundred more of me? What if there's a girl with all the same great qualities but without all my bad ones? Someone who isn't insecure, undecided, and obsessed with getting tattoos. Someone who isn't quite so lazy, who is extremely intelligent, and has the voice of an angel?

I wish I felt that no matter what, I was the right choice. Because the trouble of loving someone is that... you just want them to have what's best for them. What if that's not me?

I miss him. Just a little bit.

The Best Feeling Ever

Cool metal vibrates against my skin as I brace myself for the intensified pain. Whizzing is the only sound I can process as the needle begins to mark my skin, carving away my first few layers of flesh. My brain isn't sure whether to feel pain or burning, so a combination of the two whirls through my spine. Blood oozes from the fresh design etched into me. Temptation begs me to touch the wound but logic overrules. My heart flutters when I get a peak in the mirror. This is ecstasy.