i hate my life at the moment, no i don't, i just hate how i can't control my life. Well i can, its just, social expectations, my own expectations. i'm not happy with who i am, but i can't change, it's too much, it's too soon. i'm lying to myself again. i have changed, i'm growing bitter. Part of me loves that fact, because thats what bitter people do, but another part really loathes it because i still care about others too much. the other parts are yelling go back to sleep. Maybe thats what i should do, go back to sleep. How much would change if i went to sleep... forever. i was thinking today, i won't have to finish my homework, quit my job, go to band rehearsal, try to fit in, think, breathe or do anything if i was dead... kinda intuging, kinda sucidal, kinda the most stupid thing ever.
If you're wondering, i only write when i feel crap or the need to talk to someone who won't reply and who'll keep my thoughts secret forever.

don't tell me, who i don't want to be, don't make me plea, to try and make you see, that i don't want to be anything...

self-centred count: 21 "i's", 5 "my's", 2 "me's", 1 "myself"


now i lay here owing my life to a stranger, and i realize that empty words are not enough, i'm left here with the question of just, what have i to show except the promises i never kept? i lie here shaking on this bed, under the weight of my regrets...