Hurt Intentions
Posted December 25, 2006
There are so many reasons why people should help each other. For helping me there is no reason to. Im invading my own self in little bits of information. Every time I talk to someone they think there is something wrong with me; maybe there is. Maybe my insides dont take to talking and I act odd around those who supposedly care for my well-being. I guess in whatever state of mind Im in they think I need something to take care of it. Yet, it might just backfire in a way no one can imagine. Addiction; something I dont want to feel or at least I think not. Depression; many people think its in me and deal with it immaturely which does make me depressed.
I dont know is all I can say to the questions people ask me. I do know that some people dont appreciate the being of me and for many others, we may never know. I still feel uncertain of what people think of me its hard not to act the way I am. Not wanting to talk and/or being around my peers, is it a sickness or just human nature? Ill never understand what its like to worry about myself in someone elses eyes. Being exhausted with this all the time hurts myself. I wish I knew what was going on so I can move on and relinquish all I wish not to be.
I wish telling off is the next thing on my list. I really want those who get told off to understand how annoying they are. With all the giggling, gossip, and acting like the (pricky) preppy bitchiness we all have to deal with. I hate it so much that I cant hold it in. I really dont give a lick with what I say to them. Some of them havent seem all the hell I have and if I have to go there well, I dont care. I bet it cant be worse to live like a demonic Christian than to suffer the way I have. This truly sucks but I have to deal with it: knowing what I am and what I shouldnt be.
My dreams contribute to these acts forbidden in my religion to even think about it. This is probably why I should go to hell (really). My music is the only thing that keeps me from killing myself and dying. This prevents me from baring myself to unwanted souls. When it is given willingly I will surely die the next day because what I need to say is too sinful to some ears. I dont know for sure if its all true but, just about ninety-eight percent of what I write is true and thats a fact to me.
I may be dazed and confused for eternity from this day on but I guess its not important (like being remembered). All I have left is time so I should be filling my will all to give to those closest to my heart. Yet, I should forget all those who tried to help so I wont feel overburdened and holding onto the colors of dead skin of those people. I think I should give up and become a tongue of truth that tastes the burrito of the diseased mistake that falls away into a sacred lie that is unforgiven. The plastic men that have redefined pain-just stop and rise up their ten thousand fists that deify the deep end of the unknown with all of their might. Dare the white light to finally come out of the monkeys head. The fire of these last living souls live in this green world where all the daughters and sons of plunder all speak Im Alive!
Some of the burdening days are good but most are dreadful. Being internally sick and going to school is the best feeling in the world (not really). Pain isnt a big worry when there are loads of things going on. Trying to keep attention at a time needed is hard to do yet, if I dont I will be punished. Most of the time we have had no choice in what the proper authority says in this matter. We just have to keep our path in the direction we want. It will be hard but if we follow the path our over takers will have no authority any more. When the people get through the tough times and create the good times it will be possible to get through the door of our life.
Its truly hard to realize that the good times with your friends pass by so quickly. Everyone wants to make these moments last forever of for a long period of time. Some of us dont really understand friendship unlike others who do and take it for granted. Im in the middle of these times and I finally see what it fully means to me. This time is to never be forgotten but collected with the important friends. We mainly joke, kid, and be ourselves so we can be true not only to others but also to ourselves as well and not be labeled as a fake!
Stop judging me! Stop caring for what accessories I wear because Im really getting POed. Im not satanic, gothic, (maybe emo) or any combination of them. I may wear a load of objects no my wrist but I dont slit my wrists. Now if I get angry enough Ill start to cuss like crazy. Giving an example would put you in to a shock and you would set me off. So this can be prevented I listen to rock music every morning until its not needed. The loud bass, drums, guitars, and vocals relinquish the tension before the day starts. It you get angry with me for this simple event you can zip it because you dont want to see me in a mood. Or if you want to take the chance of setting a bomb off go ahead. If I were handed out detention after detention it would be so flipping possible. Youve given me too many warnings (like youre sexist). I should be punished like everyone else and if not this school should go up in flames.
We are the young and aspiring, the youth of the nation. Im the portrait of a masterpiece conspiracy from the ghetto of cut up angels that sing the blue note of yesterdays feelings. The haunted tourniquet in a parallel universe reinvents your exit to the whisper of scarred tissue that is within me. I am the messenjah that tries to seek forgiveness, not to escape from all that Ive got. I dont know, this last breath is taking over me under the bridge of regret, Ive tried to let it bleed, the scrape of the burning sensation of loneliness, that pure running source of comfort is forbidden for me to let out that temptation. Ive tried to take it away but the otherside, by the way, has the impact of reasons I should let it out. Im a fake of being ridiculous in content with losing the anything, right sign off my face. In my mind nothing is right and not being able to smile is an advantage to me but id a disadvantage to all who thinks Im misplaced. There is no time to save me just leave me alone!
The autumn effect has set in and Im finally waking up, Im bound to now believe in the voices that shout for miles. Like the red sky I now stand and feel my worth of this half life. I have become the image of the invisible, a mistress of the liberate, into the blood to bleed. Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated as if the jumper came over the fault line. Ive come over with narcolepsy in the semi-charmed life that holds fast hope. From this I am down with the sickness and I wish to be more than insects and prey. This wasteland has changed from seasons to cycles of violent fetish and fear. All I want to know is hows it going to be when we give it all to the last one, the provider, for the real weapons and wounded. As I look through the iris of the burning man the earth will shake as the music box of the enemy begins to play. We are like moths to flame, the paper wings of the paralyzing kings take me back then to a life less frightening. I think saying thanks a lot is minuscule to whats coming next, the phobics of tragedy!
