ndslotesse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This World , this moment, is turning into 8th grade Dear Diary, I think I am going through some teenage angst phase or something. My body feels so cold and the world...even colder. I know that this is what it is suppose to be. That I know that everything in my life is just fine and peachy. My problem is that I continue to find the awful things just so I can please my mind and make myself believe that I am special because I experience pain. And that I experience pain like no other. I hate this world because it plays tricks on me. It plays tricks on my eyes, my taste, hearing, smell, touch, and emotion. If that's a sense. I'm not sure if my writing is ever going to the be same because I am not the same. I haven't been the same for a while because I am ever changing. Non-stop. Don't let me pass you by. Everyone notices it. They know they can't get to me. People point it out all the time...they can never get close because they can never find out who I am...even if I do tell them intimate things and speak of profound thoughts. I never let anyone get close still...even though I am more open to the fact that people all aren't that bad. I just can't seem to let the barrier down, even though I tried. One of my new friends, who is just like me, pointed it out to me. Showed me that I am not the same person, ever. The same person twice is impossible for me. One moment I am this and the next, I am that. Maybe it's a disorder. But, I am not bi-polar because that refers to emotion. I am schizo (sp?). Please do not make fun. Please do not walk away. I need someone to understand. Or at least not to alienate me. Do not leave me alone in a world that hates me and I fear it. I fear it all. I may not. Never mind. I'm going to stop sounding so organized all the time...even though it's beautiful if you do. If you make sense. I do not make sense. I use to. Maybe in my previous entries. I perhaps may have. But I do not now. Not to me or you. I am alone. Forever alone, isolated from this hell-ish place that they call earth...life. Nature. It doesn't matterm, none of it. I can't stand this place. I want to walk away. I'm trapped. I want to be alone now. It's turning into 8th grade. Oh God, It's turning into 8th grade. I'm scared. So scared. 8th grade. Please God...no. With care, 10:27 p.m. - 2002-12-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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