Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Dear Diary. *music edit

I went to the park today and cried and wrote in my diary. I will now copy what I wrote. If you want to just rip me to shreds, please don't continue reading.

Dear diary,
people who know the date and day of the week really have their shit together.
I've never felt so alive...and so dead.
Now what?
Lately, people say the strangest things to me, out shopping, driving, at the park, on the internet. I don't realize how odd it all is until I have someone else with me. They notice that the elevator beeps for far too long when I get in. They, and I, notice that the entire store alarms go off when I walk in. Then if I'm buying cigarettes, 3 or 4 men rush in and buy the same kind I just bought.
I meet people...and sometimes I recognize them. Sometimes from tv or music or movies. Sometimes I don't...but figure it out later. I have to keep asking myself if they're real. Am I real? Is this all a dream?
But no. Unfortunately?
I feel like a leaf. Just...falling in the autumn breeze, letting the wind blow me any which way it pleases.I fall to the ground, and then occassionally flutter hopelessly up in a new breeze. I'm lost, and I don't think anyone's looking for me.
I'm...trying to connect a few dots, and I might be way off. I don't want to name names just yet, so I'll use initials. J told me his sister is an actress. I have a suspicion she might be the same girl from Ed Sheeran's Give Me Love video. Maybe just a coincidence. Maybe not. BUT then the fighter I met...that one night...well, he gave me his card and they all share a last name.
Well...then..."Amy" and I had a fight because I thought she was telling everyone about my problem, and I thought that's why people were suddenly being rude and following me into bathrooms. I didn't want legal trouble. I didn't mean to attack her, or her friends, and in all honesty if she was telling people she probably was just trying to help. I was so scared, and alone, and I felt cornered and I lashed out. I'm embarrassed about it, and she has since forgiven me which made me so fucking happy. I just...once again, wish I could take it back. I have also forgiven anyone and everyone who has wronged me or who I perceived as having wronged me. Holding onto anger is just like drinking a cup of poison.
Without any of the anger...the fire? I just feel empty. I feel like my presence anywhere is so unwelcome. So yeah. My biggest fear is being forgotten, and at the same time I also feel like everyone would be better off if I disappeared. I just go around disappointing everyone day after day.
I'm so fucking weird that people probably think I'm on drugs, when in reality this is me dead sober. Do I wish I was on drugs? Yes. Then I wouldn't have to feel. I gave that up a long time ago. Even weed. I ran out and just...stayed sober. The truth is I don't know how to act around people. I don't know how to talk to people. Everything I say comes out wrong. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to hurt anymore either. I hope no one ever feels the way I feel now. So lost. I like to sleep now, a lot, because there's a chance I'll be happy in my dreams. Last night I had such a wonderful dream, and then Archer woke me up. I yelled at him, "LET ME GO BACK TO SLEEP! IN MY DREAMS APOLOGIES WORK". Then cried. So. That's all I've got now. Dreams.
"If vision is the only validation, then most of my life isn't real." -from an Ellie Goulding cover*
By the way, I just need to mention, my place is haunted. Not by spirits, but living ghosts and monsters. People. I've known for ages that other people have copies of my key. My diary...is largely rewritten by someone else. I find drawings. I find...letters. Single letters, not like...pages with words. The one time I was actually spooked was when I found a triangle arrangment of my GRE notecards in the center of my bedroom after being away for a few days. Sometimes all my pictures and paintings are face-down. My SIM card in my phone is not even the same company as the one I bought, so there's that. I'm almost glad someone sneaks into my room though. I am. I just wish they didn't have to sneak.
I'm over my GTA days, when I was trying to get away from the fancy cars following me around. Now I've accepted it. I still don't really quite know why, but let's follow the traffic rules, that's fun!
Um. I couldn't write when I was perfectly happy. So I have journals upon journals of my life, the first one started when I was 6 and learning to write and learning english. There's a life gap of about 5 years where I barely wrote. Why? I was too happy. So happy. I'm afraid I will never be that happy again.


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