Thug life.

One day I will wake up and this will all be over.

There is something holding me back.
Is it me, or is it God telling me something?

I'm at a very, very weird place right now.

Everything I was used to is different, including the way I see the world, myself and others.
I don't know, its sort of like I can sense the change coming.
People always say I'm paranoid or confused.
They may be right.
But I also know when something is different, not right, scary.

And something is not right.
I can't admit to myself what it is.

But I know.
Oh, do I know.

I'm not going to change who I am. I'm just not going to do that. I'm perfect just the way I am, so yes, I am going to laugh loud, cuss, be sarcastic, break into a run down the street screaming, fulfill my dreams, dance, take shots, smile, bounce, go outside with no jacket, and I am never going to stop telling the truth.

Maybe its best you went to Heaven. Ma and Pa can't see eye to eye. :(

Just because I hurt doesn't mean I'm crazy. :( It means I'm hurt and scared and alone.

Nothing's true and nothing's right, so let me be alone, tonight.

Good question.

Let's take the moon and make it shine for everyone. :(

The psychologist is right, I need to stop doing for others and do for me.
I mean I thought I was, I am going back to UCSD, I'm working, I'm doing what needs to be done.


But I guess need is more than want.

I don't know.
I want more.

I just can't. Why do I do this to myself? What am I getting out of this?

Dear God, Make me a bird.

No matter how much you want something to be different, you kinda have to take things as they are. Sadly. Decisions. I'm going to spend the night crying, praying for the world to change.

I'm so lonesome I could die, but I'm so pretty when I cry.

I've been getting the urge to write.
I hate that sadness and confusion are my muse.

Yes, yes, oh yay.

I spend all day hating you and all night loving you.

The more we change, the more we wish we stayed the same, the more we try to fake ourselves into believing the grass must be green, somewhere.

I'm making a mess. Am I beautiful to you because I'm in pieces, or am I in pieces because you think I am beautiful?

I really thought I was getting through this time, like this was finally it. I wasted my breath. As usual.

These foolish games.