1/25/09

Everyone is the same.  Everyone, everyone is damaged and ashamed.

Everything rakes across awareness like a perpetual sound of nails on a chalkboard.  Sounds, tastes, sensations, people and their goddamn emotions, it’s too much sensory input.  Too much to process when I’m on the downward swing.

So I try to avoid them, but do you know how hard it is to do that without hurt feelings?  It’s amazing how personally everyone takes things…but then, when has "it’s not you, it’s me" ever worked anyway?

My 22nd birthday is next week, which I find absolutely astounding.  Mostly because I feel like I’m about 15, especially when I’m writing in this asinine thing.  You can read the same sentiments all over the place really–"I cut myself, and, like, I’m sad, yeah, lolz".  I don’t feel 22.  I mostly feel irritated, and ill-equipped to continue with the farce of maturity.

I’m not trying to be your friend.

There’s a part of me, and it’s kind of a big part, that would be okay if a meteor destroyed the earth and everyone on it.  There’s a part of me that hopes for that every day. 

There’s a part of me, and it’s a small one, that believes someday everything might turn out all right.