Sidenote: This all being said, I just have to comment that my blog first started out as a place to update friends and tell a few anecdotes. Over time, as friends in real life did not seem to be reading, I felt the freedom to delve more into personal feelings that I would not necessarily share with all of my real-life friends. I have some people I know that read this blog and, unfortunately, I don't have much of a choice in that. That being said, I want to let those people know that if they wish to read my blog, fine. I have no control over that unless I were to make this private. Just as I stumbled across many interesting blogs before I decided to commit and write my own, I do not want to prevent others from having this same opportunity with my own blog. Therefore, I would greatly appreciate those of you that I know to keep MY thoughts to yourself. They are not to be shared with others in "real life" nor do I wish to talk about them with you. That's why I keep them here. In the end, it's my life and I write this all for me. Yes, I appreciate feedback and nice comments, but I write to vent, to get things out of my system. But, once they're out, it's over unless I say differently. Please keep this in mind and refrain from treating my life as you would a short story you read in the newspaper. Thank you.
28 mars, 2008
Walking home during what feels like one of the longest and shortest walks of my life, the lights look like they're bouncing up and down and side-to-side with every step I take as I look at them through damp eyes. No one else exists or matters, but me and my swirling thoughts. I feel alone. I feel hurt. I miss my family. I miss my real friends. I miss a real life. I think back to the mean kids in elementary school and what I had to endure for no good reason. I bury my hands in my pockets and the scars still burn. These scars are not physical, but mental. Time does heal, but you never forget. I wonder what I did and when my time will be. I want to be appreciated for who I am and what I do. I don't deserve this. I don't. I don't. I DON'T! I've kept so much inside and I've been the bigger person. Being the bigger person doesn't always make you feel better. I want to scream and kick down the walls and say what I mean and mean what I say. But, I don't. I don't. I don't. I don't. Because I'm a coward and because I care what they think. Who cares what they think anyways? I wish I didn't. I want to stop. But, I don't. I don't. I don't. I don't.