i'm about to fucking SCREAM. i've had enough, more than
i'm waiting for someone to come and tell me that this is
all one big joke, another of their games...
i want to wake up and realise that i am still 5 (although
a 5 year old who can dream about such torture must be
fucked up anyway).
i have spent the past year fighting for reality, fighting
for some sense of normality and certainty in my world full
of chaos. but now i don't care, i have given up, i long
for illusion (disillusion maybe)...just something that
will protect me.
i feel like my heart has been torn out and hung on the
line. they all want a piece of me. it's ok for them, they
feel better for it, but they leave me in agony. why don't
people recognise that i am human and have feelings just
like they do? maybe i'm not allowed to, maybe i SHOULDN'T
have feelings, maybe that's their point.
i spend a lot of time sat at this computer at the moment.
i'm in front of the window, i can see out but no one can
see in. i feel quite protected by it.
i watch people on thier way to work, i watch the guy over
the road building his new drive, deliveries come and go,
the old ladies walk past with their shopping baskets, my
mother occasionally calls by to see jack.
or to drop of the wedding invitations, that she couldn't
even be arsed to write herself.
it's coming up to a year since he died. it should be me
who's dead. it's my fault. i killed him.
i leave for uni on saturday. i'm not excited, i'm not
nervous, i'm not anything. i shouldn't feel and i don't.
at least i'm doing one thing right.
i will just try to go with the flow. i won't make friends
because no one will want to talk to someone so suicidal. i
won't be at meals because i don't deserve to eat and i
won't be going out as i have no clothes to wear that fit
over my fat body.
i'm not ready to go now, i'm wasting it. it's supposed to
be the best time of your life, and ironically it probably
will be, even if it turns out worse than horrendous.
ah well, just keep on keeping on. no time for my pain.