| My Journal |
| Entries 4/5 |
| I am so sick and tired of being hurt. You know who you are and those who think you're that person you're not. There must be something about me, or something in general that draws them in and then pushes them away like two similar sides on a magnet. It's so sad when you think you can trust someone and then something happens and you realise you never knew them long or well enough to see what they truely are. And when you realise this it makes you want to jump out of a boat and drown yourself, take off your helmet and throw yourself onto a rock, impale yourself with the knife that one person stabbed you with. There is not such thing as love. Love is that knife, it starts off dull but before you know it your "loved" one has sharpened it to the finest point and has stabbed you over and over again countless times in the back. Then you bleed and when the river down your back begins to cascade down in a torrential downpour and the color lifts from your face you know that when you finally stop bleeding there will be nothing left. So...anyone got a band-aid? |
| Entry 1; Saturday July 12th, 2003 |
| Entry 2; Thursday July 31st, 2003 |
| Don't make me fall for you if you won't be there to catch me... So true, so true. Have you ever REALLY wondered why love is so hard to find? If you are a single American between the desperate ages of 14 and 27 then yes, you have. Well I have decided that as people grow older they get pickier and then the chances of finding Mr./ Ms. Right are undeniably decreased to the ultimatly pathetic bottom of the barrel. The worst thing is having to CHOOSE between two or more members of the opposite sex. There is the unreliable one who drives you crazy but who you know would never be around; the sweet one who is always there for you; the possesive one who stands up for you and would give his life for you; the one who always complements and flatters you in every possible way; and then there's the one who is a combination of all of the above. For all those looking for a solution to this terrible emotional problem: you're not going to find one. You will feel guilty if you date them all, worried that you missed out on "true love" (there is no such thing in my opinion), and scared that you made the wrong choice and should have become a celebat nun. Love is just about as easy as voluntarily plummeting into a vat of black widow spiders. But once you jump you have to give it all you've got to stay alive inside the tank long enough to figure a few ways to get out...once this has been accomplished you can worry as much as you want 'cause baby, you're gonna die anyway. |
| Entry 3; September 12th, 2003 |
| I have discovered the true meaning of happiness. Everything that makes you happy is so easy to find it amazes me that I didn't see them before. First there is love. Love is everything. It comes from your family, your friends but most of all that one special person. The next is friendship. Don't ever compare a computer generated person/game to a real living, breathing person. Without friendship and love there's nothing. Then there is success and luck. Kinda the same. Success is when you reach at least one of your goals and the feeling after you reach it. Combine all of these and you have the key to happiness. Try living with your friends 24/7 and you will know what I mean. You get everything, good and bad and you love every minute of it. Cherish your teenage years. They really are the best. |
| Entry 4; September 21st, 2003 |
| So once again people come to me with their problems. I want to take this time out of my evening to say that I cannot make everything go away. I'm sorry but you need to work out your own problems because someone else will not always be there for you. Love is a crazy thing, or only crazy things fall in love. Strange when you think about it isnt it? People are beginning to piss me off. I'm alone tomorrow I give up. They are annoying. You can come too if you wish. Off into our world where only you and i exist. That's how it should be, how it's meant to be. Stop laughing while I cry, stop living when I die. It's not worth it to be me seeing you in my shoes. |