4:10 p.m. - 2004-09-15
\"Dear diary, my teenage angst bullshit has a body count.\"
Oh friend, does this mean we're alone now? have they stopped watching? Have I closed their eyes for them? Scream with me. just scream! Just, let yourself go. Be free. Be free of me.
Last entry was my 50th entry in this diary.
None of those people understand. Maybe I don't want them to. I hate their advice. It always disappoints me. They want me to change. I won't conform to their ideas about life. Maybe I'm supposed to hurt.
People everywhere are being exceptionally stupid today. I refuse to answer the phone.
I don't even care that I'm hurting you anymore. I don't want to help you. I don't want to be the one you run to, because that's all I am. I am your fall back friend. I am the one that that requires no attention or help or anything. Our friendship requires nothing. Want to know why>? I'll tell you. It's because it was never there to begin we. We are not friends. We are life sized blogs and journals and diaries. We are a generation of stained diaries. We are a generation of hopeless cases of indecision and whiney broken hearted musicians who can't find a reason to go on except to warn the youth of our nation of the heartbreak they are sure to encounter. Save it for some ten dollar whore who will listen to you complain while she gives you a blow job. Lets kill two birds with one stone. I prefere my birds alive, thank you. I'm sick of you. I'm sick of your complaining. If you want me to be your little wallflower then you have to shut the music off and have a conversation with me. I'm sick of your fucking games.
You disappoint me. I disappoint me too though. It's something we still have in common. I always said you'd leave first and you always disagreed. You disagreed so convincingly that I started to believe it. Here I am waiting alone for my ride. I'm partly there. I'm waiting on the sidewalk with all my stuff, but I'm still waiting. You are long gone. goodbye. It's for the better. If it wasn't now, it would be soon enough.
I wish you were here. I mean, the real you, not whoever it is that you're pretending to be. Or maybe this is the real you and you were just pretending then, but if that's the case, then I hate to say it, but I liked it better when you were pretending. I can't promise you forever because I don't make promises because there's always the chance that I'll die tomorrow and will never get to fulfill them, but I'll do my best to keep you happy. Or at least that used to be my goal. Now, I almost want to promise you the world, just so I can disappoint you. I hate disappointing anyone. I know it will hurt me, but I know you'll crumble under my force. How well will you survive without me? Perfectly I bet, since that is your way.
You are cold now and that's fine because you always liked the winter better, anyways. I am your friend for all seasons, but maybe friendships have shorter shelf times now-a-days. Maybe we're expired. Maybe we're all expired.
I just want you to stay with me forever and I never want us to be bored or unsatisfied with each other's company. I want to do as I please, but know that you'll stand by me. I know that this won't happen because I know you'd never stand up for me and I know that I will never trust you completely.
I can remember every time you've disappointed me. The time you blew me off for a better offer or the time that you told me straight out that I wasn't good enough. The day you blamed me for your own problems and the day that you forgot to see if I was making it through okay. Sure, I remember all the good you've done, but..I'm much more easily hurt then bandaged up. I need no bandaids. I want the battle scars. I'll never let you fix me.
It's almost a pity you'll never read this because I know that you might change if you only knew, but I'll avoid you all for now. I'll avoid everyone because this is who I'm writing to. Please leave me alone. I can think of only four people who I would do anything for right about now. The rest of you, I'll see you all in hell, because until then I can't deal with what you're doing to me.
Oh friend, why do I lie to you? Why do I try to convince myself of these ideas? I will always want to help and I will always be there when someone needs me. I am such a disappointment to myself and to you.
