Main Title

Hello. these are my journal entries.

entry one.

they had no idea if they were a fool or just simply delusional. they are madly in love but the lover is not. by the time they had killed 1000 bad men, their beloved had lost interest.they were in denial. they spent so long trying to get back to their lover and praying everyday to see them that it just coulndt be true. they know of another who share the same fire and passion that the lovers once had but they refuse to look away no matter how much they want to. nothing could avert their blindness. yet, everything they say points to a wall being put up. but yet, they stay. they refuse to let go the only person they were fighting for. the only form of love they were capable of, demoliton.

entry two.

sometimes i worry that i have no real identity. like how i have no real handwriting. im but a husk, desperate to be full again. im desperate for anything at this point. 1 WANT 2 FEEL LOVED + NOT JUST G1V3 LOV3. but there isn't anything to love about a husk. theres nothing left in me. i used everything i had to please him and he just doesnt care as much as you do.[this is really big and scribbly]and pray unto god, the messiah cried from his tomb. tears wailed from the masses as they all collapsed onto their knees and they prayed, they screamed out for forgiveness for their beloved. begging for any form of retribution.and beseech onto thee i cry. i cry out and sob for thee. i hope that good shall smite thy mighty pow'r to slump back to thine feeble stature. why [unintelligible] gods children who do exactly as they're told suffer the most. why must thee make thine heart ache for [unintelligible] i long for mutual obsession and prayer.

entry three.

it feels so strange to finally admit that this is good. that i actually feel good here. im not worrying about everything here. people say that their home is their sanctuary but when i go home it feels more like an active monefeild. i never know how mom is goign to react to literally anything i do. i mean, i lover her but its hard to have a normal conversation wit hher without having to worry about all the words i use with her. ive heard so much shit that i didnt want to hear jsut becasue something i mentioned was remotely related to something that happened to her. and most of the time she rants about it for ages. the most shes gone for is about 2 1/2 hours last i checked.

entry four.

AAAGH. im so worried about this whole melbourne thing because i really dont want this whole "phone call" situation to happen. its honestly my only fear. i just dont want someone elses blood on my hands. i cant take it. i mean, im hanging out with two of my best friends and its all i can fucking think about. im scared that everything will go wrong. i jsut wanna live a normal fucking life. im so tired of being angry and scared all the time becasue of worrying. i feel like its the worst thing that ive ever done. this is just terrible. im desperate to jsut have any sense of stability or hope. hope is what i want. ive never had any hope for anything. god. im just so mad that ive been raised + ruined on her bible of lies. lies of fucking self assurance of someone who cant fix theirself. god, so much for my happy dream.

entry five.

im jsut a pretty boy, im supposed to fuck a girl. all my life, who am i? im just a faggot. its hard to decide wether i hate mom or if i just feel guilty. guilty at the fact im the only thing keeping her alive and i just ip and left. i feel selfsh for taking away her only purpose. yet, i feel great to just be able to admit that the things shes done + said are wrong. i feel sick, so sick of this. i feel sick, so sick of all of this. so many 5th periods ive spent worrying if shell even be alive when i get home, so many weeks of not being able to sleep because im scared that ill have that nightmare with her in it, so many days of me fasting and then purging becasue i just want to look like what she looked like at my age. oh so many hours of me sitting under my desk crying, so many blank spots in my memories becasue i cant stand to remember all of her bullshit. so much guilt, so much pain, god. i despise every second im with you. i cant. i honestly can believe that i debated killing myself for 6 months just to let you free from your shackles and live your life.

entry six.

To be honest, im not sure what im doing, im so tired all the time, its constant exaustion, im afraid. im afraid of all the possibilities. ive seen what she can do. i mean, im safe, right? but im more concerned about her saftey. all of her threats, who knows if shes bluffing. im still afraid either way. i'd rather not have been forced to grow up this fast. it makes me angry sometimes having to watch others my age br childish and overall... stupid. i know that people are supposed to be like this at my age but, it's still infurriating. i mean, for example i'm in class right noe and the topic is "is it okay to lie to children to keep them safe + innocent.". Everyone says yes. I wish that happened to me. I never wanted to learn what rape was when i was 8. never wanted to be explained what being beat was like when i was 7. Good god.

entry seven.

i mean of course someon dying is a good reason to be upset but, it doesnt mean you should cry in public. maybe you just need assurance that life will be okay. But still, I don't like it. I hate having to admit that I'm desperate for any sense of...[scribble] I don't know the fucking word, sigh. I just want to be hold and told that'll be okay. I'm tired of just being sad and scared of the future. I liked the hug and the words of affermation but I felt guilty, I felt stupid for wanting it in the first place. AARGGHAAGGGHH. KILL ME. [scribble] I mean, UGH.

entry eight.

i mean of course someon dying is a good reason to be upset but, it doesnt mean you should cry in public. maybe you just need assurance that life will be okay. But still, I don't like it. I hate having to admit that I'm desperate for any sense of...[scribble] I don't know the fucking word, sigh. I just want to be hold and told that'll be okay. I'm tired of just being sad and scared of the future. I liked the hug and the words of affermation but I felt guilty, I felt stupid for wanting it in the first place. AARGGHAAGGGHH. KILL ME. [scribble] I mean, UGH.

entry nine.

I don't exactly hate being alive but, I don't love it either. Same with this class. I like[d] Romeo and Juliet but the more I struggle through this, the more I relate shit to it. Star-crossed lover: Lovers whose relationship is doomed to fail. I hate that term so much. Stars are my favourite thing ever, and for it to be associated with my biggest fear... I hate it. Even though I feel doomed at the moment, though i am struggling everyday jsut to try and make him love me at the same amount that I do. I hate all of my unessicary ander and ugh. I am aware that I am a coward, there's no doubr about it. But I wish I could just swallow my fear for ONCE and admit that this isnt okay. That I'm not okay with this. But hey, it's my own fault. It's my own fault for having an issue with it. Why do I care? why do I care so much about how other people treat me?

entry ten.

I'm suprised that I don't feel... Devastated? I mean sure, it was a hard choice. All I've been doing for the past three weeks is making hard choices. I feel guilty in a way but yet... I'm relieved. Relieved that I can stop worrying so much. I did love the experiences that I had with him but I'd much rather something far less, singles sided. Actually, fuck it. I hated the past year with him. I hated so many things he did but I was just so desperate for any form of validation that I'm involved with SOMETHING. But who am I kidding, I didn't even like him that much. I've loved L**** [censoring anyone that I know IRL] since the first time I saw V**** scare her.

entry eleven.

Now I just feel bad. Why did I just fuck off with my tail inbetween my legs> I shouldve just swallowed all my fears and all of my bullshit. I don't matter in this scenario. Mom does. What's my fucking problem. I mean yeah, sure. Mom has some good times with her isolation but it's all fuckign wrong. I fucked everything up for myself. Why do I make everything so much fucking harder whenever I try to help myself. It's my punishment. It's god's cruel play with my life. Because I've sinned and ruined all around me. All I want is for Mom to be happy, for me to be happy with myself. Fuck me, Fuck me, God fucking fuck me. Why am I so selfish. I just want something to go right. Why can't I jsut live a normal life and enjoy everything. And not be such a selfish fucking cunt. Why am I even allowed to breathe.

entry twelve.

Wow. I really saw a body. She was just... There. She wasn't a person anymore. All of her dignity was gone. There wasn't any soul left in her mutilated corpse.

entry thirteen.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I hate everything about myself yet, I refuse to give up now. I finally have a reason. A reason to finally fucking live. Yet... I still have that underlining hate. That overwhelming fear that I'm not going to make it. I am so glad that we only live once because I can't do this again.

entry fourteen.

And within all reason, I shouldnt be mad. Within all reason, I should accept it. Do I want to cry right now? AB-SO-FUCKING-LUTELY! I want to bawl my fucking eyes out and curl up into a ball. But will I do that? No. All I ever want to do is cry. 24-fucking 7. My head hurts from the pressure from holding it in. theres nothing I want more than to be able to cry and be held and told that everything will be okay. I'll never get that though. I've put my walls up and fortified them. Fortified so well that I'll never be able to take them down no matter how hard I try. I wish I could just tear them down and be vulernrable for once though. I wish I could be some overly emotional cunt. But I'm not. And I don't think I ever will be. I could never allow myself to be so weak so I guess I'll be stuck being some retarded, vauge emotionally colourblind cunt.

entry fifteen.

I hate my skin. i hate my appetite. i hate my souless eyes. i hate my stomach. i hate my hair. i hate my coffee stained teeth. i hate my nose. i hate my hands . i hate my tits. i hate my lips. i hate my blocked ears. i hate my insides. i hate my fucking outsides. i hate everything about this weak, pathetic body of mine. i hate my retarded voice. i hate my anxiety. i hate how hesitant i am to let people close. i hate how much my bones ache. i hate my stupid fucking piercings. i hate how i can't ever say what i really mean. i hate how i always feel sick. i hate how scared i am to admit that i genuineky need help.

entry sixteen.

I'm never really sure if I'm okay. I mean sure, I'm with my favourite person right now but I still feel like total fucking shit. I cant help like I want to overdose right now, right in front of everyone. I have no mental sanctuary. Im always scared. fuck, im scared right now. Im fuckign terrified. im terrified that im not worht anything, terrified that im goign to go home and waste my life away. FUCK. i just want my life to be over already. press fast forward on the remote until the credits roll. im tired of overthinking every little thing in my life and ruining my own life. I always do it to myself. I always fuck everything up, yet here I am complaining about MY own fucking life. I really, really cant stand this anymore. I'm nothing but comedic relief at this point. I cant play drums good enough, I cant shred, i cant even kepp my word on anything i say. i really dont see any point in being here anymore.

entry seventeen.