Alone in room. Dead air. Dead. All air and no me. Not as sad…empty, a husk of a human being. I don’t want to walk around perpetuating this lie, I’m sick of it. Sick. Alone. Tired.
Ran out of prozac but told my mom I had a few more days left not to stress her/me….ok mostly me, becasue she would freak out and then I would have to deal with her and the situation right away when I have other things….I don’t know what….that absorb my conciousness. Empty. Confused. Don’t fit in. I block out words rather than sentences unable to exude that much of me that is still human.
I am just, still dealing, still reacting….to things, more like people. How they can be shit, be totally wrong for you, mean to you, and not care. Live their lives in a state of bliss. Bliss hiding such ugly insides. I saw two girls from my old clique today, they jaunted off toward a party an old "friend" was having at an off campus place. Not jealous. Maybe jealous? But not like I want to be in that exact situation. It scares me, talking to people on the fringe of the group, I can tell things have gotten ugly.
Power got shifted, now everything is about doing what looks polite on the outside. On the inside everyone is separated, thrashing out, looking toward their own interests and gain. Ugly. Scary. Sad. These were people I once thought were so right, now their actions, their selfishness towards others not even counting me, it is disturbing. It’s disturbing how a group of girls can turn so ugly, so bad. They’re like a mob, that has no idea how bad things have gotten. I hope they all rot in it. I am not merciful here, or good or forgiving. I hope they rot in their own shallow decietful lives. I’m not jesus so I don’t have to love everyone.
Numb, numb all over, I took 2 klonopin today(not at same time) maybe that is why? Dead. I feel like someone just killed santa in front of me, there is no christmas, no presents, no tree. It’s a lie that you’ll never get back. You will never look on it the same, trust the same, love the same.
If I hide in my room forever will I disappear? This isn’t the way I wanted to be, I wanted to live life to it’s fullest, experience things, go out, drink, explore, meet new people, party, try new things, push my boundaires. Shallow things that I wanted, now seem like they will never come true. When am I dead, when am I alive? Do I die slowly? There is no other road out, this is the road….or the dead end. A mistake to come back? More like just a whole life under the heading "mistake". Awkward, weakling, victim, ugly, rude, wrong, stupid, emotional, sensitive…..mistake. All the parts put together don’t make a car that runs well, it stalls and can’t ever start up again. It wasn’t made for the road it was made for the junkyard
