Pretty face.

All is not well.

I may have to face the fact that I am not so healthy-minded. I’m not sure if it’s that, or if it’s just that I actually am a bit shit. I need to improve.

At the moment, nobody would go for me. I’m shit. I am.

I’m no longer confident in myself, so I’ve got nothing to say. I’m losing my friends. I’m going to be alone, and I don’t care. I think maybe it’s what I need. I think maybe now’s a good time to cut myself off a bit.

I’m a little scared that it’s depression. But I’m also quite confident that it’s actually reality. Depression is not reality – it’s a distorted view. I’m quite positive, so this is likely to be the genuine reality.

All I am is a pretty face. And I realise that in many of my past entries from years ago, that’s what I wanted to be – a pretty face. I was misdirected, obviously.

I walk down the street, and people stare at me. People stop me and fucking wave and say that I’m beautiful (this actually happened today, twice), but I know that I’m empty. I have a phone full of boys who want me, but they will get bored quickly, because all that got their attention was the pretty face (this has happened, all too many times). I wonder if my friends only like me because I’m attractive. The sad thing is, I think that they do. At least I have friends, I suppose.

It’s so scary. Now that I’ve got the outside worked out, where do I start with the inside? Where do I start? That was the easy part, the inside is so much more difficult.

I’m shit. Wrapped in colourful paper.

An empty gift box.

A disappointment.

Fuck.

So anyway. What do I have to work on?

– Employment: Get a better job. 

– Study: Start it.

– Tidiness: Clean up your room and I’m sure you’ll feel less cluttered inside too.

– Friends: Stop talking to everyone. Detach. All you have time for at the moment is working on this bullshit.

I’m scared that I’ll always be this lonely.