I’m just really excited for the fall. I’m excited to start falling in love with you and grabbing Pumpkin Spice Lattes together with our scarves up to our noses and being together at football games keeping eachother warm. And we will be like any other typical pair of high school lovers making other people jealous of how the fall is full of love. I really believe in us this fall.
Don’t fall in love when you’re lonely. And don’t just pick anyone and settle for less than you deserve. My problem is that I’m always searching for something, and when it’s not something then it’s someone. It always is.
Jesus christ, here comes that late night blog post from a depressed, teen angst girl about how her heartache is eating her alive.
Well, my heartache is eating me alive.
I miss him so much it hurts. It’s like I’m trying to find others to substitute my actual longing for him. He was my first love. And now he’s just a distant memory. Useless. I just want him to see me one last time, to see me and tell me that I’m beautiful. I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.
I can’t believe that I’m suddenly up at midnight singing love songs on my acoustic guitar like some little fangirl. these included Katy Perry’s “Thinking of You” A Fine Frenzy’s “Almost Lover.”
What is wrong with me?
It’s been a year. I should be okay by now.
I wish I were with you right now. Whatever it is you may be doing. Sleeping, watching late night TV, eating lunch (depending on the part of the world you’re in), just lying there in the dark. I just want to breathe in your skin again and the way you sigh and to see you smile at me again. I just can’t forget it, or you, and I’m trying hard not to think about it.
PIECES OF SHIT.
I did poetry open mic night at the Highschool and I did great. What bothered me was that these fuckers in the audience… students, teachers, professional poets, college students, didn’t say a single thing to me. Not a great job, not a wow you’re not half bad. I mean, sure, one poet who teachers at the local college said I was great. So did one other teacher. But I wanted to hear it from strangers. That is not selfish of me, because I always cut myself short. I have no confidence in the things I say and the things I write, so hearing others telling me that I’m wrong is a reinforcement which makes me feel reassured. My future creative writing teacher-this fucking BITCH, she goes and says to me “Thanks for coming!”
She said it twice. She didn’t even acknowledge the fact that I went up on stage.
What makes any of us special? I don’t feel special, and neither should you. We’re all made up of the same composition, same organic matter. We are bones and liars and we still call ourselves more than so. I disagree, for we are all but the same in this spectrum of insanity. So call me wrong, call me a fool. But the universe knows I’m right. I know I’m right.
The other day I was thinking of how I love movies. That I could watch movies back to back because I get so lost in them. Then I thought of how my future significant other will be talking about me to whomever and just seem so genuinely fascinated.
"She loves to watch movies. Really, I came home the other day and she was still in the same position at the couch watching Fight Club. And she had those Crazy Cores Skittles, because those are her favorite. She always wears socks because she’s so freaked out by feet, and she usually brings her blankets and pillows from her room down to watch a movie. People talking keeps her awake but loud noises don’t bother her. She’s either really happy or really sad, there’s never really an in between. She loves cereal, she really really does. She likes to wear those oversize crew necks in those ugly solid colors, and she hates wearing jeans."
And this would all be from observing, not because I told him.
I’m nothing special. I’m just like every other frustrated teenager, trying to be “different” so I won’t be like “everyone else.” But if we’re all trying to be different, then aren’t we just being the exact same? We’re all trying to be different, which makes us all the same. I want to just crawl into bed and go under the covers and not come out, ever.
Just watched Fight Club. My God, was that the best movie I’d ever seen in my life. But that’s hard to say, since I say that about every last movie I’ve ever seen. I haven’t read the book yet, but I will. Does this make me a bad person that I saw the movie before I read the book?
"I wish I was special, so fucking special." Radiohead
So I’m not sure, at all, about anything. I wish I had the talent and ability to paint, but I don’t. I just want something to hold onto passionately, and I still haven’t found it yet. I want to be so incredibly good at something. I’m not. And if everyone says to be different for originality, then technically everyone is the same. Everyone is different, or at least tries to be, which results into everyone trying to be different. Everyone trying to be different is not originality, that’s just everyone being the same because they’re all trying to be different. It made better sense in my head, I swear. I tried painting, and it really was bad. I can’t do anything.
I don’t like being so lonely. I’m one of those people who can’t be alone for too long, or else things just turn out bad. I feel like things are better when you’re around people you like being around, and that things just suck when they’re not there. I have nothing to occupy myself with, no one to talk to but myself. It’s devastating.
Okay, I hated The Hunger Games movie. None of it was anything I imagined when I read the book which I reread again in the past 7 hours. The actress for Katniss is god awful and everything is too damn futuristic. The only good part is looking at Josh Hutcherson the whole time. Sigh. He’s a keeper.
So I’ve decided that I am completely utterly in love with Louis Tomlinson and our love is so special that even he doesn’t know about it yet and he will love me as much as I love him we will have kids and get married and just it’ll be lovely. my new name will be Claudia Tomlinson and if anyone says otherwise I will cut them. end of story, goodbye.
I’m up at 4:30 in the morning and all I can think about is how my throat feels like it’s on fire. I went downstairs, popped some pills, and grabbed the cheese-itz box. so now I’m blogging and eating cheese-itz. so much for my healthy lifestyle. I can’t help but kind of feel numb right now.