Scapegoat.

The excuse should be because the economy sucks, not because it's your daughter's fault. I lost my voice for the first time in a long time today, and it was not prior to cheerful yelping, but to bitchy arguing.

Why can't we just be one big happy family?

Q WORD ERTY.

I can't talk anymore. I absolutely can't talk anymore. I don't know how to express myself with urged sounds from my lungs anymore. The only way that works now is expressing myself with printed words. I'm writing to my heart's content but even with that, it doesn't help. The people I want to reach out with my newly founded figurative style of language is not reading them. I'm as equivalent to a mute person right now.

Infatuation.

I'm outraged. WHAT IS THIS? What the hell are you trying to tell me? You have not spoken a BEAT for the longest time and today you decide to flood me with a thousand thumps repeatedly.

I like you.
I don't like you.
I want my space.
I want you to be there.
I miss you.
I despise the thought of you.
I want to hug you.
Keep a distance away from me.
Why aren't you talking?
SHUT UP.
I wish you'd appear at my locker.
What the hell are you doing at my locker.
You're cute.
Why am I even this close to you?

WHAT THE F*** ?! :( I wish I didn't feel at all. I wish I had no emotions. I want to be emotionless so I won't have to worry on such a thing like you. I HATE IT. You have no idea. I'M JUST NOT READY OKAY. I'm not ready to let anyone have a PEEK OF MY HEART. It's behind close corridors and will STAY THAT WAY. I don't want distractions from school or church. I don't want to have to choose you over my friends. I don't want to talk on the phone with you every night. I don't want to spend my weekends with you. I want to be independent I'M JUST FINDING EXCUSES, but I do care about you and I do like you. :/

I just ... I want you to go away, but of course you're not... and I can't go away either. It's complicated... I don't even understand myself sometimes.

I'm passing up on opportunities and great people. I'm sorry.

Absense.

Maybe you'd still know what's going on in my life if you've took the time to call every once in awhile. I'm sorry you're too busy for me... Remember all the times you decline and reject my invitations to you? I'm sorry I have to unintentionally do the same now and it's not because I don't want to either, it's because I can't. It's just a taste of your medicine in a way. I'm just annoyed... because sometimes it doesn't seem like you care about me anymore. I love you like my sister, but lately I'm not treated like one anymore.

Amazing grace,

How sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.
I was once was lost, but now am found.
Was blind, but now I see.

Why was it that I recently had an obsession with bodily damages such as piercings and tattoos? I feel as if I have been so low profile recently that I need to start an image for myself again, but for whom? I just come to sense that, that was a foolish idea and I should happily accept myself for who I am presently... because I'm not who I have been anymore. Who am I hates who I have been. I don't need anyone's acceptance, but my own from now on.

I love God. He reminded me that I'm still loved even as though I was starting to forget and I hope all of you don't forget that both he and I loves you too.

I won't give up on myself or you, but I also hope that you don't follow down the same rocky road I ventured on. You've seen me make my mistakes firsthand and I hope you can visualize them again as a precaution to not make any of the same liking. I love you and I want you to go down this path with me on becoming a better person.

When push comes to shove,

I wish I was 18.

Mistakes we knew we would be making.

Last year, I fell in love with you around this time of the year. It started off as a coincidence and bloomed into a love story. It's nice to reminisce every once in awhile.

Me, Myself, and I.

The unsteadily race of your heartbeats, the movement of your muscles tightening, and your shaking nervousness of your knees... It's all leading up to fear. I couldn't help, but to hesitantly answer the questions. You can't expect to barge into my house and for me to sympathize with you like I used to do with everyone else. Times have change and even though you may be here to help me, I don't know you and you most certainly can't expect to be my friend so please shove your business card back up your ass. Despite your convincingly gentle, likable voice along with your charming, gracious personality... I can't seem to trust you. Your presence brought visions of my nightmares back... and you noticed what no one else has yet. The more you addressed to me, the more I had to restrict myself from opening my heart out to you. Undeniably, the problem isn't you... it's me.

Lately, I've been emotionless and I was beginning to wonder when my prior feelings were going to kick in again. Now, there's no stopping them... not even my medication. The one thing I've been seeking for all this time still has not made its way to me yet and break down the walls. I've been so closed-mouth because I sense a prolonging disturbance of nonsense every time I pursue to open my mouth about how I've been feeling. There's just no point anymore because obviously it seems that no one is able to differentiate what and why I'm feeling this way. I'm nonchalantly scrolling down the view of my numerous contacts list and all I seem to pass by is a bunch of unfamiliar names even those whom I've given the trademark to be resided in my heart, those significant human beings in my life that I've called my best friends. Of course, nothing is stopping me from helping myself, but why is it that I can't seem to depend on anyone anymore including the people with the degree of that profession. I can't seem to distinguish between the fact of if is it because I'm either shutting myself out from the world again or if it's because my mouth is impossibly unwilling to pour out the contents of my heart. I'm hoping someone with notability to just get it, but who am I kidding? There's no one of that skill present in my life anymore who can realize the expressiveness of my desires. The desire to have a hand to hold while the pain is still combating to take over. Unfortunately, the solicitude for a release of the past does not seem to be coming.

Brainache.

. . .