07.04.03

I just feel shit, no reason just shit. I'm so selfish, but is it too much to ask to find someone who loves me as much as I love them?. 'Stop looking and you'll find someone' they say but it isn't that simple. For some reason now I crave social interaction, acceptance, love mainly. No one seems to trust me anymore.

Sometimes I wanna scream, Im trapped between the will to live happily, and those unspoken rules of society, of 'what you can and cant say' to people you want to like you.

08.04.03

I have all this baggage, terrible burning hatred, pain, stupid needless annoying suffering. Sitting here hating  every word I write, every mark this pen makes is a sin. Terrible in all its glory my testimony hurts me, ruins me. Acid, that's what pours out of me.

Im a fake, NOT REAL, that's me, here I am thinking, feeling sorry for me, when people all around this world are being beaten. I know if I don't write this I'll be happy but its addictive. 

Im a master of deceit, using the writers craft and the tools I leant in English to make you feel my pain. Using raw emotions to make me seem really badly off- honestly im not.

How me and Billy fake to each other that the lack of girlfriend thing doesn't bother us and how we aren't crying deep inside, like being picked last for a team, and you smile- faking you couldn't care less when the pain is so bad.

18.04.03

I keep on imagining her saying to me, 'No, it's ok, I want to be your girlfriend, and ill visit you every weekend!' Yeah right! I know she wont say that so im facing facts- Its over, OVER!

Sometimes diary, I wish you were a person, you'd be the only person I tell everything, the only person who  listened without talking over me, or switching off, I need someone like you, I really do. Someone who didn't get bored or hate me because I was honest about what I thought about them. A person who wasn't scared of the truth and didn't remember wrongs- my perfect person. Where are you? You can come out of hiding now!

Sometimes when im writing in you I imagine someone reading you but I truly never want that to happen because to a human the stuff I write in you is rubbish, to you its beautiful and magical poetry because your not human and can't speak for yourself. My writing gives you voice and words and opinion and reason.

Mainly they give you purpose and everyone needs a purpose even me. lets hope I find it soon diary- lets pray.