this is dangerous

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that goes on in my head always.
i'm gonna make a new one of these.
& delete this one.
i don't think anybody reads this so it doesn't really matter.
but its going to be all friends only.
because honestly, i'm not ready for you to see how i feel.

disappoint me isn't the right word, but its the first word that comes to mind. i feel like too many people are wasting their lives. thinking they're getting the easy way out because it pays good. that doesn't change the fact that it isn't a good thing. i just want to sit you down and ask you why? this is suicide. you think you're life is going to be great. you're a little boy. a little boy that is scared of the world. this isn't making anything much easier.


people want me to change. i want them to change.
being right is an opinion. but i know i am.
what you're doing isn't going to get you very far.
and you're my reason for everything.
for just once i want somebody to understand what i'm talking about.

more and more i find myself wondering what happend to our old selves? for as long as i can remember i've wanted to be where i'm at. and now that i'm here, i want to leave. i want to get the fuck out and never, not for anything, turn around. and maybe when i say "you wouldn't understand" you already do. maybe we're all thinking the same thing. we can't possibly walk around and see things with sober eyes because that would mean that we'd have to face the fact that w'e're growing up. and in a number of years, we're supposed to be by ourselves. the real definition of loneliness lies within kids of a small town with nothing to do but hate.

at some point, the doubting got old. and now i'm just fed up. for once i would just like you to put your arms around me say "i get it" and not be telling me bull shit to my face. i need a new set of eyes. mine are getting old and have seen too much. i don't ever want to get old. i don't want to know anything that i'm supposed to. i don't want anybody to hate me, i'm not the person you would like to hate. there is a reason why i demand myself to be nice to everybody, and give logical, level-headed advice to everybody knowning that i could never take my own advice. i know you're just talking to me because there is nobody else to talk to. what would you like me to do about that?

i just want somebody that will listen to my problems while i'm lying awake at four in the morning on a thursday. i just want somebody who truely, geniuly understands that this life isn't the kind of life for me. i don't belong here. i know too much. i see too much. i don't do enough. i don't try enough. i'm starting to doubt that any single person could change their own life. its harder than that. its hard to get rid of these lasting thoughts in my mind.



you wouldn't get any of this.

if you haven't picked up the sweet escape by gwen stefani something is seriously wrong with you. the song yummy has to be the most amazing thing in the world. mmm pharrell. this is a more of "this is how i'm doing in non-emotional ways" update. went to the gym today. i'm determined to get back on track and go everyday like i did earlier this (school) year. it feels good. i went to whole foods and spent sixty-five dollars on ingeridents for lunches next week and dinner today. i made thai chicken & brown rice for dinner. and had green tea with it too. i'm not going to get starbucks anymore. since i'm making all these other changes in my life (see: social anxiety disorder thearpy, CBT) i figured i should do this too. i don't want to die of a heart attack when i'm twenty.



i know you're out having sex with random boys and drinking with your friends, but i don't care. i don't care that i'm not invited. i don't want to fuck up any more things in my life. thankkkssss.

you're a slut. a whore. a hoe.
you're a liar. a fake. a bitch.
you're a hypocrite. and everything has to revolve around you.
you think you're better than all of us, all of this.


but tell me what are you doing with your life that i haven't already done?
what are you doing with your life that is better than what i'm doing with mine?


i'm sorry.
maybe i don't fuck guys all day like you do.
maybe i don't do drugs all day like you do.
but i have respect. and i have skill.



don't play yourself.

i am self incriminating. i can't believe i'm doing this (again). i am a horrible person.

i have reject down to a science. i have confidence down to a science.
you'll never see it. you can't. i refuse to show how upset i am,
that this boy has no interest in me, as the case always is.
i refuse to say what i really think when i look in the mirror,
because you most likely disagree. i don't understand my life anymore.
what happend when everything was simple?
what happend when there was you, and there was me.



this is so much bigger than both of this.
i know you know.

every night before i go to bed i pray for better days. i pray for you (to be here with me). i pray that one day we can work up the nerve to say something to each other-instead of acting like we're five years old. i don't remember what its like to love. i feel like a newborn child. i fail at things to just say "i'm failing". everybody knows i'm better than this. this blank page. this open screen. your IM in front of me, my fingers waiting for the go ahead from my brain. the idea of us is perfect. nothing can be that simple. (i cannot be that simple). i sit on the couch to understand myself. nothing hes saying is new to me. "that doesn't make sense, emily." you act as if i haven't figured this out already. "whats so akward about that, emily." i just hate the way people say my name. i wish i was a different person.


sometimes when i pass you with them in the hall i wonder what it would be like if we passed them in the hall. if we were together. if we still talked. if you didn't occupy my mind. if you didn't look away when i looked at you. if you weren't full of shame, like you say. or is this all just a show. everybody i know pretends to be somebody they're not to impress somebody they shouldn't. and the person they want to impress is just pretending themselves. we take two pills. we take two puffs. we take two sips. anything to get our mind off of things. anything to do something stupid so our name gets tossed around. we hate the way they say our name.


and none of this makes sense to anybody. nobody knows who i'm talking about. nobody knows exactly how i feel when i go through these things. these "stages". these parts-of-life. i look at you and wonder if you know what you mean to her. i look at myself and hope, pray, that one day i'll mean the same thing to somebody. i should know better. i've always felt like i'm being tested, but i never am good enough. i never do good enough. i wake up every morning and say "just one more day, emily." i'm the only one who can say my name the right way. and when i talk about him people like that i'm just making it up. how could you really know somebody you don't know? you ask yourself when you look at yourself in the mirror. we've all changed. and i don't mean that in any sort of good way. i need to get off the streets. i need to realize what my life is about. but thats too much for somebody my age. i feel much older than i should.


the way i feel about you is the way i feel when a band i love for years becomes famous. when their song is on the radio, tv commericals, and their pictures grace the covers of magazines. "sold out" isn't the right word, but its the first word that comes to mind.

i wish you could see yourself now. do you remember who you were? what you wanted to be? you're a different person on the internet. the new era of fame. everybody loves you. i loved you first. and yet, thats the same old story. its getting boring and i'm sick of telling it. i don't understand how we've both changed so much. i wish it was october of freshmen year. i wish we still talked. i wish we didn't pretend that we weren't looking at each other during class. a class full of people i once thought were going to be the ones to save me. none of them did. i'm still sitting here in the same place, just a different time. i miss who you used to be. i miss when we were naive, together. i miss when we both were the only ones who understood each other because, basically, we're the same person.


day after day i wonder what it would be like if you had never exited the IM. if i had enough balls to go up to you and say "hi" (i never will). i don't know how to feel about you. i don't know what to think when i look at you. i only wish i knew what you were thinking while you looked at me, thinking i have no idea. that i can't tell. i don't understand why you decided to be exactly like everybody else, but then you say you want to change. you know thats just an excuse, "i'll change tomorrow" (tomorrow never comes). i'll be here when you realize you really want to change. i'm on the other side of the screen, feeling the exact same way.

i cannot fucking belive you.
i really can't.





and you wonder why i never have a good birthday.
i can feel it starting.

"I'm not sure what I am supposed to write in here, but even writers block couldn't touch me. This is the place where I will whine and complain. Polish my ego. State my opinions as fact. Do grudge maintinence. Tell you about how I wish you knew what it was like to fall asleep next to your big eyes. This is where I will take my bad day out on you. And let you swing with my moods. Let out a couple secrets and then try to take them back. I am sorry my sarcasm doesn't translate that well on the computer screen; you can download a new program to help you if you are having problems and have windows 98, or better called: I"
-Pete Wentz

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