Oh sweet lonely night
With the stars awfully bright
Do I dare make a wish I might
Fall in love with you tonight
I can't sleep tonight. I went for a walk, something about slow, lonely 2 am walks make me feel.. slow and lonely. It also gives me an excuse to write... so I guess that's okay too. I didn't do much these past few days. I don't think it's because I'm lazy or anything, I'm just a little.. depressed. I don't talk to the people I used to have so much fun talking to. Elijah for one thing. I used to talk day and night to that person, and now every time he's online, I don't even have the nerve to click on his name. I used to not have the need to click on him. As soon as I logged on, there he was, saying hi. Now.. for months.. nothing. Oh well.
I don't know if I've changed. Maybe I have. I'm not the person I thought I was. I used to remember myself as a sweet, shy girl who just wanted to explore. I wanted to travel the world, meet new people, discover exciting things. These thoughts bring tears in my eyes as I'm writing, slowly, but still writing, because I don't know what happened to that girl. It's almost as if I lost myself somewhere and I can't find me any more. As the tears slowly fall I imagine myself sitting on a bench alone, on the waterfront watching the waves crash onto the shore thinking "I'm going to be alright. I have myself, I'm strong, independent.. I can do anything". If I saw myself right now, I wouldn't know what to say at the sight of me. What happened to me in the last few years? It's like ever since I was 17 I didn't care about the world, or who was in it. I didn't want to feel anything at all. At some point, I didn't even care about living.
I want the sweet, innocent girl back. I want the girl who would give her clothes to someone who needed them more and to do something stupid if it meant putting a smile on someone's face. Now, I run into things and accidentally break things and don't think, I just feel like a failure for breaking something, or injuring myself. I don't think: "Someone could have found this funny." I think: "Oh jeez, can't I do one thing right for once?"
I had a conversation with someone on MSN tonight. He said something like: "Don't you care about yourself?"
Thinking back on it now, I realize I don't care much about what I've become. I've become this selfish poor excuse for a human being. I want things done when I want them done and I don't like the word 'no'. I can't stand being alone and miserable, and I can't stand seeing my news feed on Facebook all about lovey dovey crap while I sit here, in my shoebox room, alone and upset. At 17, I would have commented on everyone's walls telling them to have a wonderful day, but now, I wouldn't even bother to comment at all.
My world revolves around the internet now. I'm so scared to interact with people because I'm afraid of what people might say about me. There are already enough rumours going around.
I had goals and dreams and I let them all slip away because I started to believe that I couldn't achieve them, it won't happen.
I told my mom I wanted to be a dancer. But with my feet and my weight, I'd never make it, she said. My little sister just laughed. On my good days, I put music on and dance in my room, alone, a simple little routine and then I'd stop. I'd remember what they say, and concentrate on other stuff.
I wanted to be a marine biologist, after a trip to Toronto at the Science Centre, during an IMAX movie about marine biologists traveling the different coral reefs in the world and researching on how they are all dying due to tourists. I wanted to help the vegetation so that one day they could thrive again, and people would be able to see the beauty in it. But.. I barely passed Biology.
People have always said throughout my childhood that I was smart, that I could pass school with flying colors. I always thought so too. And then high school came along, and I could barely pass anything. Teachers, my family said that I wasn't trying hard enough. I wasn't putting my best into it. But I was. I was trying so damn hard to understand what they were saying, what the homework was about, how the hell I was going to write a 5-page essay on god knows what..
High school was horrible. It wasn't the people, as much as it was the actual high school work. It wasn't working for me. And my report cards showed that.
I tried to give up. I tried to tell people, you know.. I'm not cut out for this kind of thing. I knew I wasn't going to succeed well in life. Oh, and if you're expected something positive to come out of this, I'm just going to tell you now. You're not going to see something positive. There is no fucking light at the end of this tunnel.
If you're wondering, I'm still crying. Slowly, but surely, tears are falling one by one from my water-swelled eyes.
I don't want to sleep. I want to scream and blubber and watch a movie where a man and a woman fall in love just to feel sorry for myself. I also don't want to be alone. God. I told you I was selfish and pathetic.
I do nothing but complain about my life to my only existing friends, which are mostly online folk, people I've never met before in my whole life. Sometimes I like to think that's good, because if they don't ever meet me, they won't have to see how stupid I've become. How I let myself turn into such a monster. If my younger self met me now, I wouldn't blame them for not liking me. I don't even like me.
Why do I bother posting a blog on the internet, where billions upon billions of people have the opportunity to see it and comment on it if they really wanted to, but I'm afraid to show the people I know what my thoughts are? I told someone I knew from school that I had a blog and he said: "I didn't know. Why don't you post it on your facebook so people can read it?" I told him I couldn't. Why would I bother showing people what I actually feel, what I actually think about the world? What if they had questions! I couldn't answer them. How I feel on one single day changes so rapidly that I couldn't possibly explain what I wrote on that day, in that moment. What would people say about this post? Would they think I'm some emo freak so desperate for attention that if they don't get it might run out on the street and hope to be smashed to bits by a truck?
Truth is, I'm not really desperate for attention. I don't do things just to see what others reactions might be. I'm desperate to find out what happened to the girl I was, and what could happen to the girl I am.
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