Yes, it's official. This is now a FRIENDS ONLY journal.

Add Me 1st

Comment and let me know you would like to be added

I have a pretty explicit journal.. if you are into double standards or are sexually uptight, then I am not the friend for you.

I expect you to be active in my journal and interested in what I have to say. In other words, COMMENT. If you don't (like ever) u'll be deleted.

If you want me to join your fucking community, then post it the entry made ESPECIALLY FOR COMMUNITY PROMOS!. But, I most likely will not join if you don't have a good amount of members *meaning about 40 plus*, so don't bother.

I'm a bitch. Too bad. I'm blunt. Suck it up. If you're gunna have a problem with what I say, then don't bother asking me to add you.

[

mood

|

uncomfortable

]

open my mouth, but nothing comes out. my heart starts racing and the words run faster though my mind, and i swear they are so loud that everyone can already hear me. it's so weird. i mean, i always feel like that. this overwhelming pressure and i feel like i'm about to explode, and i hear the words in my head so well, and they're screaming so loud i just assume everyone can hear them and know what i'm thinking. it's so unreal to feel like that and then really realize that i haven't said anything, and everyone is just carrying on, like nothing is happening, when i just feel like i've poured my heart out, although i've said nothing.


don't ask me why i'm sad, why i'm upset, why i'm "mopey", what my problem is, or why i'm so angry all the time.

you aren't here when i'm up at 5am, pacing back and forth or taking pills in my room until i get so dizzy, i can't sit down and stand back up.

you aren't here when i leave the house in the middle of the night and walk around the neighborhood, thinking maybe the silence will wash away the ringing in my head.

you aren't here when i'm crying on the floor in my room, bleeding holding my heart because i'm so sure it's going to beat out of my chest, or explode everywhere.

you aren't here when the music is so loud everything in my room shakes, and i scream at the top of my lungs. you aren't here when i jump and jump and jump as i scream, trying to prove something.

you aren't here when i'm up at 4 or 5 am, laying in the bathtub, getting out and laying on the floor, getting back in and letting the water burn me over and over again.

you aren't here when i'm in my room writing out everything, while my family makes so much noise it's hard to stand and all i want is silence. making the headache stay. you aren't here when she asks me question after question, and all i want to do is keep quiet.

you aren't here when i'm lying in bed at 6am, still far from sleep. you don't know how i feel like the whole room is spinning, and the bed is moving, and i see spots everywhere. you don't feel it. i don't think you feel.

you weren't there when i broke down. when i was punching the walls over and over again. when i was crying so loud, they could hear me, over the blaring music. when i was punching at my mirror, trying to destroy something, anything. you weren't there when i wanted to bleed. you weren't the one calming me down. no one did. you didn't even know. you didn't ever see the fear in her eyes when i opened the door.

you're not here when i'm crying as i dry and straighten my hair. or as i take a shower, or as i lay in bed, or as i get dressed. or as i wake up. you don't even see the tears on my face and in my eyes when i look right at you.

you're not here when i take letters and pictures out to the backyard and burn them. you're not here when the music is loud, and it's screaming at me. you don't feel the heat. you didn't even know i owned those things.

you weren't here all the times i needed someone. you weren't the one holding me. you didn't calm me down. you didn't tell me what i needed to hear. you didn't make me feel better. you didn't even know i was here. you didn't even know how it made me feel.

you're not here when i runaway far and fast to feel as if i'm getting away. you don't know how badly i don't want to come home. you don't know how i walk around the neighborhood trying to avoid coming home as long as i can. you don't know how horrible i feel as i walk in the door and walk to my room. empty. you don't even see me come home.

you're not here when i scream and scream and cry. you don't even know i feel those things. you've never heard me scream or cry. you don't know how it's all i do.

i'm not saying you should be here. i don't care. i like it better that you're gone. just don't ask me how i feel. don't ask me why i seem upset. don't ask me why i look so depressed all the time when i'm around you. you're not here. you don't know. you will never know. don't.fucking.ask. you don't have the right.

[

mood

|

numb

]

i have this habit of staying awake until the early hours of the morning. i have this habit of taking a hot bath in the middle of the night, making the water so hot it's hard to stand for long. i have this habit of getting in, getting out and laying on the bathroom floor, getting back in, getting out, over and over again. i have a habit of finally getting out for the last time, after the water has gone cold and laying on my bedroom floor, tossing and turning, until i get tired or until i have enough energy to get up. i have this habit of pacing around my room until i get dizzy enough to lie down. i have this habit of taking pills when i can't sleep, and feeling light headed enough to have to lie down. i have this habit of going days without eating, because food just doesn't look or sound appetizing at 4 am, especially when you've gone so long without it. i have a habit of playing the same songs over and over and over again. i have a habit of licking my lips during the night, because chapstick just doesn't seem to work during those hours. i have this habit of waiting for you to call, although i know you're deep in sleep. i have this habit of trying to cry, but feeling exhausted when nothing happens. i have this habit of writing for hours. everything pours out and it never seems to stop. i have this habit of being scared of everything. i have this habit of talking about what i want with so much passion, but never moving because of all the fear inside of me. i have this habit of continuing to talk about it, and want it more and more, but moving less and less. i have this habit of staying inside and only leaving the house when i have to. i have this habit of not talking to anyone else but you. i have this habit of exploding with emotion whenever you're here. you make everything come out from inside of me. my words, my tears, my happiness. i have this habit of loving you even though i never know when i'll see you again. i have this habit of holding everything in until i see you, because you're the only one who listens.