copy, pasted, and posted.

written in may of 08. I don't recall if I posted it on JS or not.

A lot of it stands true for now...

except, I bought a plane ticket a few hours ago.

One way.

Maybe to where you think, maybe not.

Anyways, enjoy:

May 10, 2008, 11:15 PM

You.

You are the only one who tells me daily how rude I’m being.

Funny, everyone else seems to think it’s you.

But I’m the one stupid enough to actually tell you.

And that makes me a bitch.

You are the reason I need to get away.

You are the reason why I feel like I’m drowning.

Like a fish out of water, like the asthma commercial.

You are the reason why I feel like I’m going to cry about 12 times a day.

You are the reason for so many things right now.

Few of them good.

And that makes me ill.

I feel like you’re just a waste of space right now, in my life.

Getting in the way of everything, holding me back without doing a damn thing.

You are the one that brings me so low I have to inhale my way back up.

You are the that makes my thoughts race so fast I can’t hold a single thought.

You are not to be blamed for most of these things. I know this.

However, I find it mighty coincidental that after your current habits started, I’ve found myself falling back through the hole I spent years crawling out of.

It’s obvious to most who know me that I’m miserable here.

I don’t know if they realize how stuck I really am.

I feel like I’ve been stuck in a rut, and am just now realizing.

I’ve gotten to comfortable with myself and this life, that it makes my skin crawl.

Literally makes my skin crawl.

I spend too much of my time alone. Or with you.

I need to start… being an adult.

I feel embarrassed when I meet old acquaintance and I’m still at the same spot in my life, maybe even backtracked some, since the time we last met.
I don’t go up to anyone. I wait to be approached.

I’m more uncomfortable then I have ever been, and this sucks, because barely 2 years ago, I was briefly at my most comfortable.

I felt like life was on track and going as planned. No, but that was 3 years ago, even still, two years ago I felt okay. Great even.

I wasn’t alone then, like I am now.

I’m more alone than I have ever been.

Part of me likes living in myself like I have lately.

But I want to live outside, too.

I doubt myself more now than ever.

I want the happy medium, even if that means I turn into an eccentric.

Fuck, I’ve been an eccentric my entire existence.

One of the few things I like about my self. Albeit, secretly.

You are the reason that this is no longer about you.

The torch has passed itself onto me.

May 11, 2008, 12:14 AM