My freedom package has officialy crumbled

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"I realize the people who mean the most to me are taken away the fastest. I cling on tighter to those I am attached to; never wanting to let go." - myself


I'm in a spaced out daze that doesn't wear off. I don't let myself wonder wat is affecting my entire life anymore.
Most of the time we make up stories in our heads that aren't even true. They are illusions that keep us from doing something.

I feel vacant, like my insides have been scooped out and all is left is an empty hole.
I fire up a Marlboro light and speed down to scp. Horns blare at me. "Fuck you!" I yell. "Fuck everybody!" my drama rush is fading fast. Everyone is blowing me off in the worst way. But only for about 1 hour a day.



They say our lives are shaped not by those who love us but by those who refuse to love us.
Perhaps it is true that we find our parents in other people, recreating the same dysfunctional family we are used to.




People always think they are smarter then me. They say one thing, but I like to figure out what they really mean. I am one step ahead of them. People always want something from you, you can't trust anyone.

There are no answers. There are no solutions. By this time, I have learned to run and hide, to isolate, to numb myself, and lash out at those who get in the way.
Anything to avoid my feelings.

I'm so used to the little voice in my head that be lives the world owes me something and that civilized behavior is a waste of time. Broadening my horizons is difficult.

So much has been said over the years, but in the end it doesn't matter. In the end, the ways in which i betrayed aren't relevant anymore. I might never be who I want to be. I may never be loved the way I want to be loved. My scars may never go away. People might never live outside the realm of self-involvement. But I will always long for a time wen my parents and I were close. Its a secret type of longing, like an old lover you can get out of your head. My parents spirt will always be with me. Like a dream I will always have. Maybe one day it will be our time again. And when that day comes I will feel at last they forgive me, as I do them.
Perhaps my freedom will come wen I stop wishing for a different childhood, different parents.





I want to learn, challenge myself. I like that.
People constantly ask me what I want to do in life.
I reply "what do you think I will end up doing?"
"Designer, hair stylist, photography?"
I don't know why people think I want to do that. Chances are slim.

It kills me that I feel so empty inside.




I smile the kind of smile that doesn't last very long: the kind that, without one even knowing it, turns into a frown.
I look at my life and see only what is missing.
My resentments begin to escalate into anger. Though I still don't know how to voice my feelings, I shut my mouth and concede to demands, feeling more and more like a prisoner.

The thought of vomiting races through my head, though I am interrupted by a fever of self-loathing. Suddenly I don't feel good enough, smart enough, or pretty enough. I try to remember a time when I felt loved, but the memories won't come.
I feel so apart from the other people that surround me. I quickly learn that I was never taught the basics of how to correctly get along. I have to reexamine the thought I have for sensibility. Their are days when I can't imagine how ill survive.
I am no longer that girl glimpsing into windows around my neighborhood, getting an idea of the kind of family I've always wanted. It was all a facade that showed me what was missing, what I will always be missing. All I've ever wanted was someone I could rely on, who were consistent and loved me. A person who would help me find my way in the world.



Their is noting but ice and pain between us.

The summer has come to an end, and thoughts of another year start to hit me. Even thou I'm just a freshman, I know somewhere inside I have to start thinking of what I'm going to do after I graduate, if I graduate.

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