Okay Previous Post Lies.

I know I at least have one person who understands me.

I don't have anyone.

No one gives me what I need.
What's the point?
Why do I care so much about being fucking happy... I should just be okay with making other people feel happy sometimes.

Running Thin.

I hate hurting other people. And I try my best to hurt myself to avoid it. Right now, that's what I have to do. Make sacrifices. Pretend everything is a dream. Pretend I don't cry myself to sleep. Pretend I don't have fading scars covered by a layer of fresh marks. Pretend it's so easy to be happy. Pretend I don't feel the way I feel. Pretend I don't want something different. Pretend I'm someone else.

I understand that this is necessary. I understand that I have to force myself to stop thinking that I should be allowed to do what I feel. But it doesn't make it any easier to succumb to.

I wish I could be surrounded by people who demanded as much emotion in every moment as I do. I wish someone else could just tell me that it's okay to be that way, and it's okay to only want to be with other people who live like that. I don't believe in the emotion of contentment. I don't believe in fine. I want more. And if the only emotion I'm allowed to feel without desperately changing my life is sadness, then so be it. It's better than being numb. God, I hate being numb.

I'm screaming, heart beating
just to break
And no one moves an inch
while they watch me cringe
I'm trying, giving up
all I need
And no one moves an inch
while they watch me cringe

Forget the paper,
etch these words into skin
Broken shades of maroon
to enhance lines running thin

I'm fighting, heart racing
for true love
And no one moves an inch
while they watch me cringe
I'm losing, giving up
the battle
And no one moves an inch
while they watch me cringe

Forget the paper,
etch these words into skin
Broken shades of maroon
to enhance lines running thin

I'm singing, heart crying
to be me
And no one moves an inch
while they watch me cringe

So I'll toss aside the ripped page
I tore from a forgotten notebook
And instead pick up a dull blade
Rusted with my wounded memory
I'll etch these words into my skin,
Watching maroon slip across ivory
Enhancing my life line running thin

Forget the paper,
etch these words into skin
Broken shades of maroon
to enhance lines running thin

I'm dying, giving up
all I breathe
And no one moves an inch
while they watch me cringe

Please, my life line's running thin.

I Want To Kill Myself

Metaphorically speaking. I think. For now.
I'm sitting here, feeling honestly like I'm the lowest of the low. I'm some evil demon that sprang from hell to make the people she cares about most feel bad. I'm hurting them, and that's hurting me. And then when it's hurting me, I hurt them more.
This isn't fair. I just want to be able to experience my feelings without someone telling me I'm wrong. That my heart isn't beating for the right reasons.
Well if my emotions aren't right, and I make every decision based off my feelings because that's what I have to go off of... then... what is my point for living?

I live to prove people wrong. I live to show them that I'm actually made of something. Now, to be honest, this is more to prove to myself that I'm something. That I'm worthwhile. Because right now listening to my best friend cry I feel selfish partaking in inhaling and exhaling.

I need a do over. Meh, that doesn't work does it? I need a start over. I need to remake my life. I need something completely new. I need to not be this pathetic excuse for a life. And every moment I sit here typing I'm feeling worse and worse. I just want to feel a blade ripping through my skin. I've often dreamed about how it would feel to finally cut through my neck, let go of all that useless blood.

But this is what I don't want to do! This is who I don't want to be! I want to love living. I want to not be so selfish. I want to be loved and feel deserving of it. I want something incredible.

And if I can't kill the me that's already so close to dying, then I have to summon some strength and literally take my own life.

Stars.

I've always believed they possessed an ethereal quality I couldn't quite explain... and now I'm sure of it.

My feelings don't make sense. They are illogical, irresponsible, and naive... Yet the way my heart strings are currently being plucked creates the most fulfilling melody that has ever rang through my veins.

I feel like I should bow my head for feeling like something so impossible is everything. I feel like I shouldn't believe in fairy tales and ancient fables, lovesick tunes, and works of lunatics. But... this is what makes sense to me. Normal, safe, realistic, logical... it's so unappealing.

I hope I have a dream like last night's tonight.

Stunningly Amazing?

Not exactly the adverb acting like an adjective + adjective combo I would label myself... but I like hearing that I'm being referred to that way.

On February 12th I'll be in the twin cities visiting Megan. I'm pretty excited for that :) I haven't seen her in a while and we always have fun. Plus, I love the twin cities! When I went there with choir I fell in love.

On March 12th I'll be in California with my sister Jessica. I'm stoked. I've always wanted to go to California, and now I'll finally experience LA and see if it's really the place for me.

Ah, life. You do such good but at the same time.. you do such bad.

Also, I don't think I should be allowed to have an exacto knife. It's so damn tempting.

This is as quiet as it gets

She knows she'll find him here; dozens of fireflies glitter her insides while anticipation glimmers in her nervous smile. She scans the crowd, eyes darting hoping to catch the gaze of someone she loves within a mess of undeserving, unknown identities. The sun beams, sparkling the hints of copper in her irises and blinding her. In that same moment, love blinds her. She feels him hug her, hears him excitedly rambling on about how great it is to finally be this close. He pulls away and their eyes meet. The ground shakes beneath them, and she feels herself falling. She grabs the collar of his shirt and finds balance pulling him closer until their lips touch. Intoxicated in the passion of a first kiss, she loses any, and all, inhibition and control, wrapping her arms around his neck rather than letting go.

_______________________________________________________

It's pure fantasy, which is the reason I can believe in it so strongly.