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Saturday, December 04, 2010

I feel like writing...

but there's nothing to write about. Other than everything.
There was one song that described me perfectly. I found it once on the internet, downloaded in, and that laptop broke, and I'll probably never find it now. It was an amazing song, it hardly had any lyrics. But the noise, which wasn't even all music described how imperfect and messed up I am. Like a car crash, or a scribble.
I'm almost always consumed in my thoughts. I'm surprised at how good I am at acting happy. People rarely notice when I'm upset, and when they do, I trick them into thinking I'm happy.
If I'm going to be honest in this, I don't think I'll tell many people about it, then they'll know I'm faking my happiness, what bothers me, etc.
I ate 7 clementines today, I'm so glad they're negative calorie, I can eat however many I want and not gain weight!
I had 260 calories or so in reality. Not including pop. I need to start getting my mother to buy diet again. What the hell does she never buy it? I've told her countless times I like it more, but no, she gets 110 cal. per 250 ml pop. It's annoying.
I love how people know me, and what I'm like and what I think, and what I'm going to do. If you think this, you're a fucking idiot. You don't know me. You'll probably never know me. Whatever you're saying, is most likely wrong, and if not, I'll probably make it wrong.
I'm mad now. I hate when people assume stuff about me. They're never right. They're all pathetic idiots who need to get over themselves and leave me alone.
I want to share my secrets, with one certain person, but I'm afraid of what they'd think.
I want to trust them, and by sharing the secrets, and if they kept them as secrets, I'd trust them a lot more, easily. Of course, then I'd want to stay close to them forever/a long time, because they'd know too much. But that wont happen, so I shouldn't tell them. So I will continue hiding myself, which of course isn't good. A person can only take so much. And I'm already breaking...again.
They already know some stuff. But not near all. And what they know about, they don't know much about.
I should go, before I say something I'll regret later.

2 comments:

  1. I can relate to this 110%.

    1. My mom ignores things like my preferring diet soda

    2. I love clementines.

    3. Nobody really knows me. Not a single person. The people I'm closest to think they know me better than I know myself and it makes me so mad. I hate it when people make assumptions about how I feel about things or how I will react to certain things. Most of the time, they are completely and utterly wrong.

    I am sorry if this comment is rather cryptic, I was kind of writing as my thoughts stumbled around my head.

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  2. Don't worry, I don't think it seemed cryptic.
    I write the same way a lot, which usually leads to it not making much sense to anyone but me, or being far too long for anyone to want to read. /: Hahaha.

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