Blurred

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.

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.