Current Music: Mindless Self Indulgence - You'll Rebel to Anything (as Long as it is Not Challenging)
Not really, but i bet babies would be tasty.
Hate hate hate, angst, anger, kill, destroy, maim, fear, rage, lashing out, danger, fight, fight, fight.
Not so good place right now. Mother is pushing me and pushing me to see a dermatoligist about these scars on my arms. I really don't want to waste her money because i would put money on me cutting again someday. Hell, I've felt like it plenty of times recently (within the last month at least) and was hardly able to stop myself.
I feel none too abandoned. I have issues with people ignoring, not calling me, not messaging me and all that sort of stuff for more than a few days. If i don't hear from someone, i assume the worst of them and start thinking that they are trying to cut all ties with me. Yes, this fear comes from personal experiences. I've had things fucked up. I've been abandoned in so many ways. It feels weird having my parents care so much when i know that they wanted to get rid of me too, before I was old enough to think that, maybe, it could have been my fault. I couldn't even talk. I hate the thought but there might be something about me that just can't be loved and cared for in the way I really want[need]. It doesn't help that I'm not exactly a blossoming flower of a girl. More like a thorny bush, or and intimidatingly tall fence covered in sticky, poisonous vines.
Schuby, the only person who has known me since my hair was its naturaly color, naturally, called me the other day because his mom, a amazing woman who basically made me feel safe at school (elementary), had died. He said he would call me to go to the wake but i never got a call back. Can't blame him, but i missed it because i didnt want to be bothering him while he was, really fucking busy with that stuff. Sad but i don't know how to feel about it myself. I really just. . . fuck. I don't know how to say it without sounding like a weird gothy weirdo. I just don't. . . I expect it. I guess. That isn't right. It doesn't phase me the way i think it should, the way it seems to phase other people. I have never felt, well, mournful, i guess. It feels wrong, the way these words are coming out. I loved and respected and cared for these people and i felt something at the realization of their passing but i have never been "down" or openly sad or even cried. I've forced myself to cry, when family or friends would watch me, because not doing so is deemed unhealthy. I cry when I think someone i care about is in pain but death is not pain. The act of dying might be painful but death itself is not. Hurt is something of the body and when you remove the firing synapses and nerves of the physical, all that is left is emotional hurt which isn't something to cry over for someone else. That isn't right either. I hate the way i type now. Nothing comes out the way i think it should, the flowing way it comes out of my mind that somehow becomes this strained prose you read. Well, I read pretty much.
I miss being friends with Ian and Philip and Bryan and Elis and Mark and having fun and being goofy and playing and being normal, before i met Akim, before i broke up with Ashley/Heather, before I started hating myself, before I started wishing for the past. I miss that.
