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And this is the way it is
Feb. 22nd, 2006 10:00 pmI've been thinking...About everything. Maybe this is what 5 straight days in McDs and a day off does to you...
I'm sorry I'm ungrateful. I don't think I deserve your attention or that you should think about me. I don't understand why people find me worthy of their time and energy and love. I think sometimes, 'yeah, OK I'm a dork and you still want to hang out with me and that's so cool' and sometimes I think 'why? Why do you think of me?'. I believe that people already know how I feel - and that that's why I'm alone sometimes or why people look at me funny.
I'm not making much sense even to myself, am I?
And sometimes I wish I could be more - I wish I had the energy to chase everyone down and make sure they're OK and if I can help them out. I wish I had the time. I wish there was a way I could show people that I cared. And I don't think I can.
I have so much to say to people and when I'm with them, I end up saying nothing or, as in the case of me and June (and Libby) in Belfast last week, I start saying what I feel and I made both of us weepy. I didn't mean to, but I need to get these things off my chest because...
Because. I'm leaving my home in half a year. I'm growing up. I don't need the support I used to. I do need the support. I need to be comforted. I need someone to tell me to wise the fuck up. I need someone to tell me that it's alright to get emotional when I think of taking down my photo wall. I'll need someone with me when I pack up my room. I need someone to prompt me to draw porn to get my mind of things. I need someone to say 'just chill - it's alright.' I need someone.
I feel so stupidly isolated and then I feel really connected and...I don't know how I feel. And I'll listen to everyone, because I can't not listen. It's not in my nature too.
Fuck.
I'm sorry for this. I didn't realise I was going to ramble like that. I didn't realise how much this was all getting to me. Sorry.
Emily Dickinson for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trowicia
( I Died For Beauty, One Need Not Be A Chamber To Be Haunted, It Was Not Death, I Heard A Fly Buzz When I Died, He Fumbles At Your Soul and Success Is Counted Sweetest )
I'm sorry I'm ungrateful. I don't think I deserve your attention or that you should think about me. I don't understand why people find me worthy of their time and energy and love. I think sometimes, 'yeah, OK I'm a dork and you still want to hang out with me and that's so cool' and sometimes I think 'why? Why do you think of me?'. I believe that people already know how I feel - and that that's why I'm alone sometimes or why people look at me funny.
I'm not making much sense even to myself, am I?
And sometimes I wish I could be more - I wish I had the energy to chase everyone down and make sure they're OK and if I can help them out. I wish I had the time. I wish there was a way I could show people that I cared. And I don't think I can.
I have so much to say to people and when I'm with them, I end up saying nothing or, as in the case of me and June (and Libby) in Belfast last week, I start saying what I feel and I made both of us weepy. I didn't mean to, but I need to get these things off my chest because...
Because. I'm leaving my home in half a year. I'm growing up. I don't need the support I used to. I do need the support. I need to be comforted. I need someone to tell me to wise the fuck up. I need someone to tell me that it's alright to get emotional when I think of taking down my photo wall. I'll need someone with me when I pack up my room. I need someone to prompt me to draw porn to get my mind of things. I need someone to say 'just chill - it's alright.' I need someone.
I feel so stupidly isolated and then I feel really connected and...I don't know how I feel. And I'll listen to everyone, because I can't not listen. It's not in my nature too.
Fuck.
I'm sorry for this. I didn't realise I was going to ramble like that. I didn't realise how much this was all getting to me. Sorry.
Emily Dickinson for
trowicia( I Died For Beauty, One Need Not Be A Chamber To Be Haunted, It Was Not Death, I Heard A Fly Buzz When I Died, He Fumbles At Your Soul and Success Is Counted Sweetest )
