He loves my heart shaped sunglasses

     People don't like me, and I care too much. 

                                                                                              I think I'm not liked for good reason, I can't pronounce words, my voice is light and shrill, I talk too much, I walk weird and even more I can't list. So I think it's understandable really, I get why people don't like me.I just want to hop on a bus and disappear from all my problems, maybe then when I change my name and move somewhere far away, I'll be adored by everyone. I'll take the next bus to a foggy town, My name will be Pearl and I'll work at a perfume counter. I think then maybe, the people who hate me now will forget about me. I just want them to leave me alone.

“The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.”

“I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of the throat and I'd cry for a week.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

I was a young girl, a virgin, and therefore men denied me rationality just as they denied it to all those who were not exactly like themselves, in all their unreason.

 I guess I've never been too good at socializing. But, being in school again reminds me that my social skills are poor. I worry too much, I know I do.

 

       I worry about losing friends, I worry about people who don't like me, I worry about grades, I worry if my teachers even tolerate me, I worry if my art is even worth looking at, I worry if I'm in love with my own friends.

I wonder sometimes if I'm good enough to have nice things. I wonder why people are even still friends with someone as annoying as me. Do I even deserve the life I live, what good have I even done?

I sound ridiculous, I know I do.

Look at me, I'm a depressed teenager who is too wrapped up in their own mind. This is a small part of life, and I know eventually it'll all be different. I know one day I won't resent my parents or I won't even wonder if my friends even value me. Someday, I'll look at all of this and think I'm real stupid. Everyone tells me my feelings are valid, but I feel I just sound stupid.

            I guess all I want is to be happy in some form, I want to be free of my worries and depression. I want to live in a lavender feild, my only thoughts being the bees and the smell of spring. 

                                                                                                    But that's just a daydream

The killer awoke before dawn
He put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived, and then he
Paid a visit to his brother, and then he
He walked on down the hall, and
And he came to a door
And he looked inside
"Father?" "Yes, son?" "I want to kill you"
"Mother? I want to..."

 

“I feel like I know her but sometimes my arms bend back.”