you are

things not worth rhyming

[perhaps you are not]

the death of me

after all

especially in fragments, truth be told, wouldn't you know

sing like it

I was always a beggar and a loner,
never stepping twice, never making mistakes,
and all too accustomed to the meltdown

and I loved you still

and after it all i was vague as ever, beautiful as ever, personal as ever

and it was all a lie

I feel like a fraud, now as ever. I walked so far that I can't see your face anymore and it's all better off that way. It once had a tune that I remember all too well, that I'd like to forget. Am I getting better? I don't know. I swear I'm not a liar (though yes, yes I am, and a hypocrite too) I just don't know.

love is an empty word for me, meaningless, and my delusions of grandeur are all withstanding. "jump out the window, i can survive. stab myself, i can survive. shoot myself not because I want to die, just so I can shut my brain off and not think anymore." time is going by slower than i thought it was. I could be doing so much more and there's so much I owe to school, home, my friends, my life. I'm fucking up and i'm getting more and more depressed. It's just a part of growing up. Go fuck yourself then.

in need of help, now as ever, and i can't even hold on anymore

i still haven't come to terms with

my selfishness and stupidity.
how I hurt others along the way and how obnoxious I am.
how teenaged and mediocre my writing is.
how I'm really not that smart, I'm just a "stupid fuck with brilliant luck" who can only quote songs to describe myself.
how when I put myself down, it hurts everyone more.
how I'm dragging everyone down with me because I can't bear the thought of losing anyone, not when it's happened so many times before.

to my parents: I'm sorry for not being everything you wanted to be. I feel as though I can't win with you. You say you're going to support me in whatever you do, but I dance around topics involving who I want to marry or be with because I see mom's shudder and I hear dad's want to say "it's your CHOICE" in what he says. I can't measure up to your expectations. I can't take the pressure. You do so much and I'm so scared of everyone and the world and having to take care of them when you die. I wish it was an "if". I truly, truly do. I don't want to go away. I don't want so many things that are in my life because I brought them upon myself. I have so much, you say that so much, and I now know I do, but still I forget it and I feel like even you two are going to get sick of me too. Like I'm getting sick of myself, like the people I love who leave me in some way.

I don't know what it is anymore, not at all.

to my friends: I regret so much I have said and done because you have been there for me regardless. I ignore the fact that you have your own problems and I just rampage. I get drunk and make phone calls. I lie. I cheat, I break promises, I fail at all things a decent person could. I'm a mess, the friend you can't count on. I say things and do other things, and I'm spiteful and wrong and I make so many mistakes and I, I, I can't lose you all to this. But I'll never show you so there is no point. I can get out of bed, I ignore it and I instead spread my misery to everyone else. it is my curse, family curse, person curse, it's all mine like a blanket or a toy except it's just sad. I'm amazed that you haven't disappeared, I'm amazed you haven't said what's wrong because I know it's coming.

People I love in my life leave me, so it's so hard to let go.

Follow me. Don't follow me, too dangerous, stand clear, stay back! I'm a whirlwind of bad excuses and false hopes, no presents, no showers, no love affairs for lack of commitment. I want someone to hold me -- you to hold me, him, her, they, it, whatever -- and tell me it's okay to be fucked up. I can't convince myself because I can barely hold on as it is. I'm going insane. I think sunsets are lame and nights and days are both overrated. I hurt my life and my imaginary love and my imaginary hiding places. I wonder if anyone reads this, like I read other blogs, anxiously waiting for more inspiration and more heartache. "nobody likes me, maybe if I cry" She describes it all too well.

Too sick to eat, too sick of myself to be awake, too afraid to sleep. I don't notice cars. I don't notice street signs. Letters swerve and disappear. I am the cure, I am the curse. I am the queen of being vague and a bitch to boot. goodbye in so many languages just to throw you off. You'll never catch me, I'm far too unnoticeable.

so sorry that i refuse to apologize

but of course!

Here I am crying over something that's a stupid teenage thing but here's what's happening.

I am getting out of the house and not doing what I should because I can't concentrate on it because I'm going fucking batshit insane. I'm hearing things on a loop on repeat when they're not there, PEOPLE ARE FUCKING TALKING IN MY HEAD THAT AREN'T ME. I'm seeing things that aren't there and I'm imagining myself dead and my friends dead and things in ruins and having horrible dreams and how the fuck am I supposed to let you know that without you committing me or coddling me or losing trust in me or anything I don't want or need? I need to be alone. I need to die, I need to do something to escape this bullshit that is called my life.

I'm going crazy and you won't believe me. No one will. I just want to die right now. I can't pull any sort of card and I don't know. I feel like my blog is my best friend at this point because it can't have a fucking opinion and it can't yell at me, or make me feel small and useless, or make me want to destroy myself from the inside out. Fuck it fuck it all I hate this and I hate you and I hate hate hate hate hate hate all of it.