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The breaking point
Sunday. 6.15.08 11:57 pm
I can't be here anymore. I'm roaming my own brain just to find a safe place, and I can't. Nothing is even in the realm of being good. I take too much heed into what I'm saying anymore. I just wanted this one thing, this one fucking thing, and she rips it out of my weak, pathetic hands. She always does. I don't know what to do anymore. It's the way she does it. The way she shoves everything down my throat. And how all of her problems are automatically made mine. My body is going numb. It seems as if she wants me to be as unhappy as her. I can't imagine. Everything was copasetic for the last few months, but now everything is changing. I can't live with her anymore. She makes me want to fling myself off of the tallest building. I hate the world when she's like this. The whole fucking world. I hate what an angsty bitch I am. I hate what a hateful person she's become.

I don't know what to do.
Oh my god. I can't write anymore. I've lost it.

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Sunday. 6.15.08 12:16 am
Sad, again. Confused, again. I still don't know where my life is going. I still can't write anything worth while. Where's my life heading? Lost little pieces, lost little pieces. I hate these forks in the road. I hate them. Maybe people like me weren't just meant for simple happiness. Maybe I am just supposed to be alone. Because right now it feels like I'm not cut out for anything.

Another fork in the road. We have all faced them before.
I was on one path for so long, predictable and lonesome.
Surprise, surprise. Decisions, decisions.
Time. Ticking. Short. Shorter.
People like the petals you pull off of a flower.
"Will I be happy now? Will I be happy then?"
Now and then, again and again.
Decisions, decisions. Decisions, decisions!
There's no road less traveled, no wrong ways to go.
Another fork in the road.
I take these steps forward and do my best not to stare.
I only hope someone makes you happy
- Although that someone just can't be me.

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The reason
Saturday. 6.14.08 12:44 am
There is a reason why I don't sleep at night, you know. Besides the fact that I just can't bring myself to do it.

I don't like to sleep at night because I enjoy solitude. I sincerely do. When in solitude, I don't think about how others perceive me, I don't think about what others are doing, I don't think about what I need to do and when, and most importantly, I don't feel rushed. This is the reason why my mind is in perfect order some nights, or at least speaking with a high degree of veracity. It seems as if I am a completely different person at night; mellow, introspective, and tranquil. Whereas during the day, I'm indifferent, upset, or just completely hyper.

I just realized that I don't like to write like this, so I'm going to abruptly stop.

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I be back
Friday. 6.13.08 12:49 am
Katie (sup guys; Unicornasaurus) said I should start blogging again on here, as well as Xanga. So here I am. Just in case you can't understand, that was her up there saying "sup guys." So here I go diving into the my first blog, as a once again NuTanger...

I'm becoming more and more interested in murders, serial killers, and such. I don't mean to sound creepy, because it's not like I'm into the thought of killing people. I'm more so interested in the people behind those horrible acts.
Whenever I read up on them, or watch a documentary, or anything of that sort, I always wonder what was going on in their heads. What went wrong in their up bringing that made them who they were, and why couldn't they control the things in their head. What stops every person from being that way, and what makes the person cross the line from sick fantasy to terrible reality?

And the fact that some of them after being discovered, show remorse. They pain for what they've done.
But even more disturbing, some don't. What makes a person that way? What makes a person different?

"After his execution, Gacy's brain was removed. It is currently in the possession of Dr. Helen Morrison, who interviewed Gacy and other serial killers in an attempt to isolate common personality traits of violent sociopaths; however, an examination of Gacy's brain after his execution by the forensic psychiatrist hired by his lawyers revealed no abnormalities."

I just think it's crazy.
Anyone could have the potential to be one of these people.
And everyone has the potential to be a victim.
It's mind blowing.
How does this happen?

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Friday. 4.27.07 8:27 pm
i am tired, i havent slept much the past few days. i am sick, and i wake up every few hours coughing and nit able to breath. i guess this is my punishment for swimming almost everyday after school for about 2 weeks.
on a worse note. a few friends of mine were caught at school with possesion and someone said that i snitched and i didnt. but now everyone is mad at me and no one will listen to me. its like i am screaming and yelling it wasnt me, but no one listens. all they want to do is blame me for their mistakes so they feel better about themselve getting susspended. i wouldnt realy care, except for the fact that this is highschool. and my reputation as i know it is going to be known now as the snitch, or tattle tale. no one will ever trust me, at least as far as i can tell.
i wish people would just listen to my side of the story, instead os just assuming. and also its some of my realy good friends that got into trouble...
i need to just be trusted and for people to listen to me.


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spring break
Wednesday. 4.11.07 8:49 pm
so far has been ok, i went to chill with the fam. which was ok, but kind of boring. when i got back i hung at my grandparents house because my 7 year old cousin which i havent seen since she was 3 and i was 7 was in town from south carolina. she is OK at times, but most of the time a serious brat that gets everything she wants. but today i spent time with paige, and holly at the mall. but now i must go because i am on the phone, so i will go.

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