Good morning, Sleepyhead.

I don’t expect everyone to understand me because there is this urge that’s pushing me.
I have to prove myself that I am not lying when I say “I am alive.”
I want to really feel things and be really invested into what is happening in my life.

Because, you know, this is all we have, and I want my life to be extraordinary and I want to be loved and understood. Not because of other people, but because of myself, mostly -out of selfish hedonism.

No, no, this is not selfish; I don’t do everything just for myself .Now I am just thinking in circles, being hard on myself for being me.
Anyway, who doesn’t want to be loved and understood? It’s completely normal. There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s just that I think more and feel more than most people -and if I believed that this was only in my head then I would try to snap out of it and remind myself that everybody cares so much… but everyone tells me that most people do not -not like me anyways. They tell me: “You over-think and overanalyze things, and you care too much about everything. You need to think less, you know?”
No, I don’t know. I don’t understand how other people function. They seem like machines. I want to tell myself that they are sad and happy and wonderful but I still feel like they are different. Just because I am outnumbered it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t try to live to the fullest -and as far as I’m concerned, that involves fighting the general apathy of the world and the mundaneness of everyday routine. Or maybe I am full of shit and nobody should listen to me, ever.

Waiting to pray.

Shoobeedoo.

Going to the Cabin today with very lovely people.

Life was lived.

And the worst thing is the wasted time. All the forgotten moments. The unfulfilled dreams. The regrets. All the missed chances. The best thing is however, that life was lived. There was pain and heartache, but it did not compare to all the love and joy. All the dancing. All the jumping around. The amazing people. The fulfilled dreams. The opportunities. The accomplishments. Life was lived. It was not perfect, but it was perfect enough. And the good news is, the best is yet to come.

Secrets on your pillow.

I don't understand how you can smile all day and then cry yourself to sleep at night.
How pictures never change, but the people in them do.
How your best friend can be your worst enemy, or how strange it is when your worst enemy turns into your friend.
How forever turns into a few short months that you'd do almost anything to get back.
How you can let go of something that you once said you couldn't live without.
How even though you know something is best for you, it hurts just the same.
How the people who once wanted to spend all of their time with you can't even spare a few seconds.
How people make promises despite knowing how common it is from them to be broken.
How people can erase you from their lives just because it's easier than working things out.

iloveyoumorethanyouwilleverknow.

Sick and Tired.

Messing up isn't fun. But the thing about fucking up is that you're supposed to learn from those mistakes, right?
Move forward, and learn to do the right thing. Believe it or not, you can do it. Having a backbone is good for that sort of thing.

I'm writing right now but I don't even know how to convey the thoughts and feelings I've been having.
Maybe because I've never felt more alone than ever before, maybe because everyone does things and I'm one of the few that just don't. Either way, being lied to sucks.
It's probably one of the most hurtful things. You think I can't handle the truth? The truth would hurt a lot less if you told me from the start. If you didn't do these self destructing, sick things.
Maybe I'm the problem in this situation. Maybe I should just quit caring about what other people do. But no convincing or ignorance can really shield my feelings, it will still bother me.
High school is supposed to be the time of my life. So why do I sit up at night with different thoughts than the rest of the world? It's impossible because no one, I mean no one, would ever agree with me.

Trust is defective. Those friends? Completely different people. Change is a part of life. Like a phase in a way.

Maybe I'll never fit in. But really, why would I throw away all self respect for a good time? I'm fucking high on life, I don't know what good comes from illegal substances.
I give up.

Chaux Pastry Heart.

Everyone has two sides to them. One they let the world see, and one they keep to themselves. I dare you to let yourself be seen on both sides of the telescope, being totally vulnerable, for someone you love.