Â I don’t know why or how, but everything evil and bad in this world ends up finding me. Like I have a neon sign over my head, advertising yet another easy target for the world to corrupt.
I don’t get it.
Why are some people living the time of their lives and then the rest of us fall through the cracks?
I use to be happy. I never wanted to cut or even cry this much, but here I am. I use to not want to do anything I’m doing now. (Haven’t turned to drugs, but I’m contemplating…)
I don’t know what made me crack. Was is that my first ever boyfriend moved away and dumped me for being negative?
Was it because I’m not normal and taunted by peers who spread rumors about me being a lesbian? (Which I’m not and I don’t have a prob with people who are)
Or is it because I realize that growing up is more difficult than it sounds?
I have no idea what it is, but whatever it is it really messed me up.
I probably sound like a little girl with a mid-life crisis but if you walked a mile in my shoes maybe you would know how I actually feel.
Sometimes I wish I could slip into a coma and pretend that I don’t have to wake up. Not suicidally speaking but its my own way of saying that I want to get away from all the drama and just hibernate and just dream.
After all that’s all I ever do anymore.
I wish people could see that its not what you are its who you are, but no.
Everybody here (where I live) are supermodels…and well I’m not that kinda person.
“I don’t want the world to see me, cause I don’t think that they’d understand.”
I love this song by the *** *** dolls, sometimes I wish my life was an 80’s movie or a song that narrates my life.
I suffer very bad self esteem issues, so when people pick on me it doesnt really help. I’ve ignored it for so long that its finally affecting me.
At the moment I’m not sure about what I’m willing to do, I don’t understand why all the kind people are the ones that throw their lives away. My friend Ben was one of those people.
How is it always the good people? The kind hearted, the intelligent or talented? Or even different, is the word different a word that means to be feared or a target?
If those people only knew how much they were cared for.
Every time I stumble across a suicide story I can place myself in their shoes in an instant, and I’ll admit I cry my eyes out like I knew the person.
Why are all the good people fading?
Sometimes I wish I’d never wake up…