Please, I rather to die in slow pain and pure torture, as long as its from someone that really will enjoy finally killing his anger with a human being (if I can call myself this way).
Come on, mother, you yell at me every fucking day, expecting that it will be alright, then you ask me why am I so depressed in really hateful voice, and what's wrong with me, or that I should stop to do what I feel like, and then you want me to be the perfect child.
No.
I'm fucking not this girl.
I never were.
I never played with barbies, or liked pink.
And I never had more girl friends than guy friends, or preferred to play with dollhouse than playing soccer.
I never thought that suiciding is wrong (giving up, is wrong, so if you kill yourself, know that if you give up, you failed), or that love is the reason you live.
I always were myself.
Too bad you can't except it, mother.
How it was today?
I have no idea.
I feel too bad to even respond people.
Just, don't.
I want sometimes to drown myself in the bath.
Or sat myself on fire in the balcony.
Sometimes to drink dish soap from the kitchen.
Or just simply fall enough times from my bed.
I'm saying, that sometimes, I'm really considering, to end it all.
No another pupil in school.
No another sad legend.
No more blog posts.
No more lies.
No more cries, that long ago, became more often than smiles.
No more embarrassing people.
No more taking space on earth.
No more snoring in laugh.
No more dreams.
No more nightmares.
No more jokes.
No more me.
It's too easy, it's only thirty seconds away.
I just can fall from the balcony, and that's it, a body on the cold asphalt.
It's so simple.
Few seconds, and there I'll be, in Neverland, with Peter Pan, there to never grow up.
Stitching shadows, playing with fairies.
Why not?
I believe that my life is hell, so the worst that can happen, is nothing, I'd live again in a different body.
If not, I'll be in heaven, with all the people who suffered enough.
I hate this day, again, feeling like dying, will I'll ever run out of sadness?
Because I ran out of tears long ago.
Well, at least I know, that in no time, another day is coming.
Four days to school, I can't believe it.
In four days it will be the beginning of a whole new experience, junior high.
In four days I'll attend the first day of the coming three years.
And I don't like it.
I'm scared.
I have a strong feeling that I'll be alone.
All the girls, gah, girly, bubbly, popular, and none of the girls as I see it wil give up on the low chance they'll have the crown.
The guys, pretty much the same, very, popular.
I don't belong there.
I don't belong anywhere with people like them.
My friends, that I feel that's true to me, in other schools, like it's a plan, made to make me confront my fears.
But I'm not ready.
I guess it's part of the plan.
Catch me off-guard.
Right now, all I need for the new year, it's probably new sketch book, it will be expensive, but the good things must have a cost, we all know that the worst things in life come free to us (Ed Sheeran, The A Team), so, may the art begin.
I remember having one plain sketch book, I remember drawing tons of pokemons in it, I also had some pokemon book, my best guy friend had a pokemon book too, it was fun, we drew pokemons, and he taught me how to play pokemon cards, and from it I learned also how to play Yugi Ho, and Bakugan.
Why can't dorky children can come to my class?
Like, even one nice (really cute) guy, is on the science/smart class, many of my friends are there, I guess I'll meet them at the breaks.
I'm so not ready.
Oh well, I'll just stick to the quote from this girl from Just Peck, "life's a bitch and then you die", and write tons of songs that got stuck in my head.
What am I going to do?
Oh shit, I'll just try to not pop out, and get used to noise.
Four days!
Fuck!
Well, at least I -think I- know my schedule.
Get out from the house at 7:30 or so, buy some energy drinks in the kiosk, go to the bus station, wait for the bus, pay, put all of my things in the locker, and wait.
Oh, just in time!
Never underestimated you my dear phone, Teenagers, just in the fucking time.
Oh fuck, I'm going to see them again.
And be with them, for three years.
At least I'll try the most of it.
And you'll be my witnesses.
Evidence that I survived middle school.
I need to die, like just for few days, to relax at the spa of the dead.
I don't know what to do.
Really, I'm nervous.
So tomorrow, it's Saturday, the ultimate relaxation.
And on Sunday I have no idea what I'm doing.
But on Monday (I think) I buy some more school shirts, because all I have is 3 blacks and 4 whites, and as much as I love pandas, I won't dress like one (unless its a costume, and then I will).
Okay, I haven't talked about it, but the title is so perfect.
Who Are You Now?
Seriously sweety, tell me.
Who are you, or what are you, I don't know what is the right question to ask.
You're not communicating at all, you got your hair straightened (I loved your curls, too bad that they're gone), you don't even look at me above one second.
And what happened to you?
You used to be some kind of tayl, or drag, or a slave? And now you're independent, I guess that being alone is sort of your plan, if you have one.
You used to be my best friend, we used to be together, always (some old song my mother likes, can't get it out of my head, at least it's better than hearing her Avril Lavigne or Taylor Swift songs), and now, you're barely waving your hand at us.
Am I like a manikin to you? Human like shape, but nothing else from piece of nothingness.
The void treated me better, and the narrator is less mean and depressing.
I think I should tell you about it, it's another thing that I can't just keep it inside.
You just officially became the best listeners in the world, free psychologists.
So, back there at the movie thing, they hid BID's phone so since they had two knives on the coffee table I goofed and said "here, use these" holding the knives in my hand.
And their eyes, I knew that its not only him, it's the other boy too, my friend who is pretty good actor/singer/writer that knows the secret, and the unlucky lover boy, god, I really think he's shallow, he asked 3 girls in the past two years to be his girlfriend, he gave me the same look.
Like they afraid that I'll do it in front of them (nobody is that stupid), and I had this feeling, all the time.
After two hours or something, BID told me that my actor-singer-writer (new shortcut ASW), told this unlucky lover boy, my secret.
Why?
What?
How?
Who do you think you are?!
Who do you think you are that it'll be alright if you'll tell a secret?!
A secret that isn't yours?!!
A secret that will make the owner of it, relive it.
My life is again, on a risk that I don't own.
But how can it be that, he's, the bullied boy, ASW, can tell a secret that he doesn't own.
And you know what's the most annoying part of it?
That this boy, shouldn't know it from the first place, a girl that doesn't own the secret told him that. (Bbbff).
It smells like an underground rumor to me.
Huh, now shit is starting, and starting big.
And then, everybody is asking me, wondering, how can I hate my life.
I really can't answer this question, because its not the right question.
Right now, 99% of my life, I don't control, it's depending on people, on people I hate, on people I don't trust, on people who betrayed me before, on people that want to destroy me.
At least my biography will be interesting, I just found the comforting part of this hell.
I just felt very Ruby Gloom-ish.
If you don't know who she is, she's the main character in one of the best two gothic/situation-comedy cartoon that's too short and should've stay longer.
I like Misery, and her relatives, and Poe, the most snobby crow you'll ever had the luck to watch.
I miss being young.
Back there, the television had better programs, like about those funny (and sometimes wicked) twins, in their red-white stripe onesie, pulling tricks, and being evil to the annoying mayor's daughter.
You know, when I read the line "The Sun Under The Sea" I think about crete, I was in a museum there, and they had a dead
Sun fish, huge yellowish fish that is thin and looks like it got chopped in the middle.
I rather a cat named Luna of two teen witches that lives in immortal guy mansion, and they hate his girlfriend.
I can't wait to read the next book, I have it, right now it's thirty seconds away from me (close as suicide was), but I won't read until I'm done with Reached, but my brain feels like when Patrick wrote this awful song that pretty much killed a band, it starting to make smoke and smell like that something died in it.
You know what I hate, insane fans.
With insane people I can manage (I like them).
With fans I can handle (sometimes, unless their idol is Miley Cyrus after she changed, then the fans my twerk their way away from me).
But insane fans, oh god, I just want to choke then.
Really, no matter who they like, but if they are obsessed to levels that you will take popcorn to watch their fights with other people, I'll plan my way to kill them.
The worst I've seen in real life so far, probably One Direction's fans.
Once I've been in the mall, in the bookstore, searching a copy of the first book of Hush Hush series because I couldn't find it in the library, and I wanted to know how Nora actually got to know Patch, and understand their weird human/victim-fallen-angel/murderer relationship (sneaking into dreams it's unfair against little girls you fucking angelic perv).
So, back to the story, 3 religious girls (I don't need to mention it, but I did), stood there, holding a book, I was like "hmm. Okay.. Whatever..." And then they started to make excitement noises like "oh my gosh!" And "ahhhh!" To this book, this book was a planner, of one direction, and then they kept screaming "oh my god!! Harry!" And on this moment, I just looked at them, and only thought that I'm hearing different music, and keeping to act human, they hearing the common music, and act like this. How the fuck am I the weird one in this?!
And trust me, if it even was nirvana or green day (I guess they are more common than the rest), I would be surprised as well.
Because I'll just tell it simply.
NOBODY GIVES A FUCK ABOUT WHO YOU ADORE YOU STUPID GROUP OF BITCHES.
And now imagine Sadie from Awkward. "You're welcome" thing.
People should know when they look ridiculous, they don't need to stop, I never stop, the show must go on, and my show, it's a 24/7 reality show.
So, I'd do what I'm good at, crunches and tv.
Goodnight my dearest berries.
Berries, Survivors,
I hope you'll make it.
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