"oh, he is doing better i think...thanks"

"have you talked to him?"

"yeah, a little bit"

I am so angry all the time.  I just want to destroy everything I see.  I hate everyone I meet.  I do not want to commit suicide.  but I wouldn't mind dying either.  I can never sleep any more.  I just go for walks outside, and wish I could be as oblivious as a star.  Every smile is forced.  Every laugh cut short.  I want to keep busy, because whenever I get a moment to think, I realize how badly I have fucked up.  I think that it gives me a twisted sort of reassurance.  Some sort of method of confirming to myself that people really care.  I think that I treat those that i care about the most like shit because i am so insecure that i need to know that they care too, and hell, if I can make them cry, they must care about me at least a little.  That is awful.  I don't know if the real reason, but i hope it is not that because that is completely terrible.  My hands are verry jittery lately.  I cannot keep them still, I have to struggle to keep them steady long enough to hit the keys accurately.  My sister reads my posts.  I loathe that.  i can never write about anything that i wouldn't want my entire family to know because she has to stick her nose in everything.  I could set the account to private but then the people that i want to see this never will.  Maybe that isn't such a bad thing, I never am thinking straight this late at night anyway.  I haven't written in ages, it all sounds so contrived and fake, it makes me want to vomit. I clogged the toilet.  No one in my family knows this yet, because I clogged it with something bad.  I hope to god Gail isn't reading this.  I hate that she reads this.   

i wrote a poem that i really liked recently and cannot remember where i put the damn paper that i wrote it on.  i spent the last 5 minutes looking for it and finally found it.  yay. here goes.


wrapped around this secret
vines squeezing for the truth
wrapped around this secret
disregarding all i sought to soothe

forgotten under foliage
 left withered and dying
this truth is our secret
thats gone deep into hiding

and now i'm tearing off those layers
shucking sheets off these lies
i wanted to keep it buried
but i just can't let it die
 

it is really funny that in just the short time i have been writing on this site, my writing has changed so distinctly.  i was looking through the 15 or so entries i have made and it is so odd to see how the importance of people has changed.  over the summer i was totally obsessed with allison, and then she just sort of fell off of the face of the planet, i barely even think about her anymore(sorry if you read this and i offend you).  the people who are important to me now arent really mentioned in any of my entries and sorry guys, you still get no mention here.  on the other hand i still constantly immerse myself in x-e and link people to it like every ten seconds.  i still don't proof read anything, but my grammar is slightly improved.  p.s. has anybody seen the Sweeney Todd movie yet? they aren't showing it at regal :(.  oh yeah, one more hting, this is a really sappy poem that i wrote...i have been doing alot of that lately.  


angels in the snow
pristine, shining perfectly
but that white's too bland for me
i miss your color quite terribly

i can't stand what's porfect to most
that snow is a fools paradigm
if every flake is different
why does it all seem the same?

white can be quite beautiful
but not for those like me
i need to see in color
and i miss yours quite terribly