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December 29, 2005]
[ mood | indecisive ]

I'm standing in a room and I see everything put out on the table. Everything is in plain view, every choice readily avaliable if I get my mind and my heart and decide what to do. But I am so unsteady, so unsure. Which choice is the right choice? What if I decide I want to do something and then it doesn't work out? I know its just a small tiny thing but I can't decide. I need to make sure I go the right way. I need to be in control and I have all these feelings and thoughts and its all jumbled up. Every day its different. Nothing is the same.

I'm so tired.

I'm scared to talk about it. I'm tired of the questions. I'm scared of the answer..... am I ready for it... when it comes? All these feelings. All this anxiety.

and we were (0) dreaming

April 16, 2004]
you did what i did and you looked for something in all these places, but what you were really looking for was yourself. things are different in my heart, so it affects my friendships. its not that i don't want to spend time with you, its just that i have other stuff i'm doing- other things i'm learning. we're not on the same path, we used to be. we used to be stupid freshman far from home. i don't even feel like i can know what you are thinking or why you do things anymore. what is there to hold us together anymore? theres this scarlet thread that used to weave us together, this blood that connected us and what we thought could never seperate us. i don't know. i hate to sound all poetic, i dont want to reduce you and i down to some stupid line of some book i write later on in life. but i have to find my place... and i just, i just don't know where that is.
and we were (0) dreaming

i think too much [
January 10, 2004]
Every so often its like I come out of a fog.. for a day, or sometimes even two, something lifts and I can see and if for only a moment if I could see my life for what it really is, I could make some decisions.. right and wrong....

A barrage of thoughts in this vein brought on the first scraping. I felt so small, so insignificant, I had to give myself proof I existed. With all that out there, how can I be real right here. Pain, I needed pain to prove I had something, was something, AM something. It turned into something else... or not?

So me wanting myself to die, thats scary too? I'm guessing this is one of those "time not to talk things" so yeah, whatever. But there... you go. You want me to say what I'm thinking, there. Thats what I'm thinking! So we can stop projecting all the bullshit about my life, onto everything else and put the blame where it really belongs. On me.. put the gun where it really belongs. In my mouth. Put the diary and the pen down, and finish the book, finish the eulogy of the life that should have been lived... MINE.
and we were (0) dreaming

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