I have a wild imagination. If something bothers me, I have to say something about it. I write babbles and I hope people appreciate every word. This is the way that I express myself. I hope that people can relate to it.
Sometimes I just want to write. Sometimes I just want to cuddle up on my bed and sleep for what will seem like a life time. I want to skip class and still be as knowledgeable. I want this week to be better or mean more. I want someone to notice things. I want to be interesting. I just want a fucking break. I’m asking for two minutes to breathe because right now I feel like I’m suffocating. I need things to slow down. I need people to guide me, no rather, do it for me. I want the answers to all of my problems. I need a break. I need to slow down. I need less of this pressure. I need to get away. I need to get away from you, away from her, away from this and just away from here! I need two seconds to breathe. Two seconds to recoup…
I need peace. I need to not care about you. I need my space. Can I have that today? Maybe tomorrow? Maybe sometime soon?
Can someone answer me? Could anyone answer me?
I just keep wondering what the fuck am I going to do?
Boys are not allowed to tell me I’m gorgeous, speak sweet nothings of my wonderful personality and then go off to the bar never to be seen again by me.
I just want to scream from the rooftops. I want to tell you how stupid this is. I want to run until my legs feel like jello. I want to celebrate myself. I want to get out of here. I want to go home. I want to be alone.
This is a long drawn out process. I feel like I knew where I was, but right now I might be a little lost. My anger has fueled me into this raging machine.
I must do something with all this energy, but no, the week isn’t done and my time isn’t up. I still have to study and succeed.
I still have to pretend to be friendly when all I want to do is crawl into a whole and sleep and sleep and eat and cry and cry and sleep and sleep.