So much rage, so much anger inside of me right now for no apparent reason whatsoever. I don't know what's wrong. I just want to scream at the top of my fucking lungs but I can't, and it won't help. I feel like I'm losing control of reality. That I'm some how slipping into insanity. One minute I'm happy, the next minute I'm depressed, and then the next minute I'm pissed off, and the next minute I'm sleepy, and the next minute I'm hyper. Up down..up down...up and fucking down. Maybe I'm bipolar. No maybe it's fucking Zoloft and it's fucking me up. I don't know. Maybe maybe. It's always fucking Maybe. I'm never certain about anything. I'm not certain about anything anymore. Everything is just haze. A blur. A cloud. A big dark shadow consuming my soul. I want to tell the whole world that I hate them. But do I really? I don't know. I want to tell people that I hate them for hurting me. But do I really feel that way? I don't know. My anger and my hate isn't directed at everything and nothing. I wish it was directed at me. But I don't even know if that's the case. I never cutted myself out of hatred for myself though or out of anger. Well, actually I just kind of waited for the anger to die down and then when I started feeling numb I started cutting. But I think I cut to show people that I really did care about stuff. And now I'm kind of able to show that I care. But see, it's just so much easier being apathetic to things because you don't get hurt. People don't take advantage of you. You don't get disappointed. You're able to keep your illusion of happiness. Unfortunately, the brain doesn't work that way and eventually that illusion breaks and you crack and fall and spin into another dimension. Happiness is a choice. Bah. I hate that fucking saying. It's a choice. It's a choice. Everything has to be a fucking choice. If you don't understand it, it's a choice. Liking people of the same sex is a choice. You have a choice of this and that. What the fuck? We don't have a choice. There's no choices. Has anyone ever realized that? No fucking choices. We're slaves in this fucking society. If happiness is a fucking choice then please will someone fucking explain to me why the fuck I AM NOT FUCKING HAPPY? God. This is bloody pissing me off. Fucking majorly. And you know what? Letting all of this anger out is not helping me one. single. fucking. bit. Piece of fucking shit. Life is so fucking beautiful but we as in humanity makes it suck. Oh, wait. Another choice. Only we don't have a choice. I was people would just fucking tell me the fucking truth. For once, meaning what they say, and not just telling half truths. Or maybe I'm just paranoid. If that's the case, I'm tired of being paranoid all the time. I think everyone is against me. That everyone is conspiring to fucking break me mentally. Everyone except fucking Priscilla. I just wish I could trust more people. I wish people would trust me. I wish. Well, I wish a lot of things but none of them is going to happen. Okay, so I trust my parents and Priscilla. Whoo hooo! Priscilla is like fucking family to me anyways so she doesn't count. I wish I could trust someone other then family. But everyone is so fake. Everyone lies. Everyone hides behind facades. And I'm sick and tired of it. Tired of it all. I don't know what to think of anyone anymore. I don't know if they are good or bad. Just when I give someone my trust they just shove it back into my face. How many fucking times have I cried out for help but no one was ever there to help me? It's gotten to the point where I can't even hear my own screams, I can't recognize my own voice. Everyone's always talking about holding hands with their one true love and being touched and shit like that. Everytime I think about that I feel fucking sick. It feels like I'm fucking choking. Even now, I don't like being touched all that much. It still makes me feel uncomfortable. I can't touch my own mom without my skin fucking crawling. I hate it. When my dad touches me it feels like he's going to hurt me no matter how gentle it is. When other people touch me it's like poison to my skin. And it's not fucking them. It's ME! I wish for once that when someone touches me I can feel that they really mean it. That the touch means something. But I can't. My fucking therapist doesn't think I was molested because I have no memory of it. Then can please someone explain to me why the fuck I feel this way? When I see a naked kid, fuck, a half naked kid on tv I feel gross and my skin crawls. Explain to me why the fuck I have Max. And why he comes out without me even fucking realizing it one single bit. Nothing makes sense anymore. I feel like I've been living a lie. That my life was all a lie. Only because I have feelings that don't fit anything. That I think something happened. That I can't remember a fucking memory. The feelings are all there, but it seems like it's coming from no where! Absolutely no where! How are they developing? Why are they there? What the fuck happened in my life? When was the last time that I actually felt like myself? Now, I don't even know if I was beat as a kid. It's images. All fucking images. How the fuck do I know that it doesn't exist? I see rooms. Plenty of rooms. In my dreams, when I'm awake, so familiar yet so unfamiliar. What's real and what's not. I don't know anymore. Nothing makes sense. Reality isn't reality. It all seems like a fucking dream. It's like I'm floating in space and no one is fucking noticing me. Or something like that. I don't know. My parents beat me with a belt once for slamming a door. I don't remember it at all. How do I know it happened? When my dad reminded me. And I realized that I haven't slammed a door ever since. But yet I don't remember it so how do I know it happened? How do I know it just isn't another fucking dream? Nothing touches me. The only person that has truly touched me is Priscilla. Priscilla is the only person that I feel like exists. I don't know why. Maybe it's because she's the only person I've ever gotten close to. I don't know. Other then that, I feel so alone. Nothing seems real. It's like if I reached out toward this monitor my hand could go right through it. I feel like I'm just living a fucking lie. A lie. A lie. A lie. All fucking lies. I don't know anything anymore.

priscilla
does she have any idea what she means to you...? i mean, have you realised this whole blog began with her and there hasnt been more then an entry since that doesn't mention your huge love of her? just a thought.
» painless on 2004-06-02 09:35:00

LoL. Okay, I don't love her in that way! Just as a friends way. And yes, of course she knows. She knows she's like the only one that can keep me sane. =) It just sucks that we can't hang out because of her mom. But yeah, this blog didn't begin with her, it was just something to help me express myself and figure things out which isn't working. It just happened that we got in trouble and it sucks not being able to call her or chill with her. We have to sneak around. It just sucks. But yeah, she knows how I feel and I know how she feels. We're like best friends. Whoo hoo! But this entry had nothing to do with Priscilla. I just kind of compare and contrast everything to her. Haha. Which probably isn't a good thing, but eh, I don't care. Okay, enough of my rambling. Bye byes
» DarknessPrevails on 2004-06-02 12:11:44

I understand. Everything is a comparison to you. Everyone i meet know and talk to is a compared to you. Everything bad everything insane everything at all is always separte from you. Its all on that side and your on the oposing team. You are the opposing team. Its insane but no matter what, you'll be there. Its cool. rage is a good thing hun. at least it can be. be filled with it. let it run its course. its good. i'll try to ge tout of the house. friday. we'll see.
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