It was the roar of the crowd, that gave me heartache to sing, it was a lie when they smiled, and said you won't feel a thing.
♥
Thursday, January 8, 2009
2:30 AM
I take back all the happiness and the enthusiasm from the previous post.
I.
Want.
To.
Die.
Lies, lies, more lies.
How can supposed good people be awful people in real life?
I feel emptiness. a void space in my chest. anger. hurt. frustration. indignity. regret. pain. distress. boredom. dread. humiliation. loneliness. I feel alien. Like I don't belong. I feel left out. I feel like an outcast. I feel judged. I feel misunderstood. I feel ignored. I feel things are effing unfair. For no reason.
I come home everyday, feeling alive. But the wrong kind of alive. I feel like a walking corpse. And my family are exactly the same. Hands stuck out, flesh hanging obscenely off their bones, walking around in circles, grunting about nothing whatsoever.
I want to come home and feel happy, feel like I've achieved something that day, feel... fulfilled. I want to save some kid from being squashed by a truck, I want to jump off a building but not die, just experienced the feeling of freedom from weight... I don't even care if I come home heartbroken, or sad, or angry, whatever. I just want to feel something...
That post about You Know Who down there? Yeah, I didn't even mean it. I don't look at boys anymore. I don't see them. Eventhough they're shockingly handsome I'd just go "oh." I don't feel that current, or that electric shock anymore. True, I didn't use to really genuinely care about boys last time either but at least I felt something! At least I'd notice a hot guy, or look out for one, or go bonkers over Josh Farro! Now when I see his poster on my wall I feel sad. Effing "S-A-D", of all things to feel when you saw your favorite person in the world.
Nobody calls me anymore.
I call them. I can't even talk long, 'cause my mom cares more about money than real things. If only I didn't have to be bound to any of these people by blood. If we weren't relatives, I don't think I'd ever approach them, talk to them, least of all be friends with them. I don't mix with shitty people. All I ever do nowadays is to read Harry Potter in my bedroom, go to school, sit down in my cubicle and do Math. All I've been doing is Maths. And then I come home, cook, go to sleep.
How effing fulfilling.
I cannot believe I'm spending my teenage years like this. The adults are always the ones who tell us these years are the best and we should treasure it by doing good things... what they don't realize is that they are filthy hypocrites. THEY are the ones holding us back from doing good things.
I sometimes wonder, are they huddled together right now in that little circle of theirs, laughing, having the time of their lives, joking about how someone's missing out on all the fun? And then wondering how I'd react if I were there to see it all.
I bawled for hours in my room last night. For no reason.
Listened to My Chemical Romance over and over again.
Felt better, after hearing Gerard Way screeching in my ears (in an awesome, un-annoying way). If MCR were to become a religion. I'd gladly convert.
'Cause with all that's going on, I don't give a shit about religion anymore. Christianity feels like zombies all over again. Blindly flowing with everyone else, knocking off the walls and not bothering to regain your steps again. Slouching around, praising the God whom, whatever you might say, you doubt and you criticize. You can't have your own opinion, especially if it's contradicting. And not having your own opinion is a major downgrade. Gah.
And then things started to get worse.
Everyone's an effing fake. I'm not being general here, and I don't want to mention names so I'll just say "everyone". They're all fakes. With little pretty phony smiles on their faces thinking it's so welcoming when really, it's sickening. All they ever talk about, is Chick Lits and lip gloss and You Know Who. They haven't experienced enough shitty things, in their protective little holes.
Fuck everyone.
Again, I'm not being general here so don't take this personally. The people who actually read my blog would know I'm not talking about them, so...
signing off.
