malenky devotchka

Bella Morte
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2004-02-10 23:18:00 (UTC)

mortal thoughts

i still have trouble identifying with why the title of
these entries is so importnat, but somehow they are. i read
other diaries and they always have something profound or
incredibly off the wall, of coarse, there's always the sex
diaries which speak fluent dirty sex jargon. i recently
reconsidered absolutely nothing, i really feel down today
and i am writing what ever happens to wander into my head
as i sit here writing away away away, i wish i could just
walk and keep walking and that the road never ends, it just
keeps going and i never have to see anyone i know ever
again, because everything in my life is so misleading and
everyone is so misleading that i feel like i'm going around
in circles, and its so frustrating, sometimes i wish i
could vanish into thin air, but of coarse thats pretty
impossible and i wonder sometimes why i don't just leave,
i'm perfectly capable of leaving and that's why i think bog
created families so thatpeople will feel compelled to just
stay where they are and never move and have to put up with
all of the really dissatisfying crap that is so commonly
encountered in life. in this incredibly nay-serene
environment, it seems like my imagination makes up where
reality lacks, but isn't that so with everything and
everybody and all of the great writers everywhere, they're
only fanmous after they die- when people dedicate days of
the year to them and talk about all the crappy breaks this
person had, and how if one thing had gone differently maybe
this person would be here today, maybe they wouldn't have
commited suicide, or they wouldn't have died alone and
gagging, or maybe they wouldn't have, just disappeared. if
the world is what we make of it, what does that say about
us? there are so many questoins, why is it that for every
person that makes it, ten more fail?? i don't understand
what holds everyone back, i guess its just circumstance. i
am here now, because certain things did and didn't happen.
do people ever really see what's in front of them? do we
ever stop and count our blessings? no. we spend too much
time counting our curses. we are the curse. i am the curse,
i am the curse. i wonder sometimes, all the time (i have
way too much time on my hands) what would happen. what
would happen if i had spoken up three years ago and said
how i really felt, what about two years ago? what about
yesterday when i felt like tearing my bloody hair out last
night? when i heard those words and felt my heart was
breakng??? when i realized all that i had hoped for was
only my imagination? my incredibly vivid and encompassing
imagination that i rely on so often, to get me through the
day. what if it is no one's fault but my own for letting me
delude me? in this series of musings have i said anything
that makes any sense? i hate this week. i hate that the
world forces valentines day on everyone and yet, i am
perfectly calm sitting in this chair typing amidst many
other people, people sitting so close i can reach out and
touch them, i am calm, i am not angry, i am a litle
disheartended by the extrememty of my rantings, but i am
okay, and when i go to class, i will be okay, and when i
sit there and listne and talk i will be fine, because that
is me, i can be there, and NOT be there. because of my
delusional imagination. it is another part of me, there are
many of us, but it is definately the one i like the most,
because an imagination can do anything.anything.

~tragically yours,


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