i fear the day i wake up and think about my mistakes, because hey. I’m who i am, i have no regrets, it’s who i am today, but really, who am i? I try so hard to be myself, never something i’m not. But it’s impossible to let everybody like you for who you are. It doesn’t work like that. I’m hiding behind a mask, a huge mask. I don’t normally let my feelings out because it feels like im seeking attention, when really i’m not. I bottle it down, until i can’t take it any longer, until the silence creeps up, and screams the truth. It lets the voices in my head become clear, they tell me lies, and fighting my own mind is hard fucking work i tell you. So i scream, i scream so i can’t hear them anymore. Then i’ll run away, into somewhere alone, secretive, and completley empty, so i can calm, and attempt to forget. But i can’t always bottle it away. My heart is broken, and i’m screaming for help, but nobody see’s. Nobody see’s beyond my eyes, unless they know me, know me so well they can almost see what i see. I want that so bad, i want people to feel my pain, what i go through. Don’t get me wrong, i know the world doesn’t revolve around me, i’m perfectly aware of that, and i know people have gone through worse than me. But i can’t take it. When i try and they don’t realise. Sometimes i feel i’m not good enough, and wish that if it wern’t for child locks i would have jumped out of that 7 story english block window. But no. I sit here, completley underestimated and around. And i guess, that’s how it goes.
today was one of those days where you can’t take it anymore, you have to let it out. i bottle everything down inside me, then i can’t take it any longer. So i cry, i scream, i yell. Today i cried, because i try and try and try. Maybe not as hard as i should, agreed. But i do, i put myself for others first, if someones upset with me, i hate it, i want to be friends with everyone, make them laugh, but i can’t, you can either do everything for yourself and put your friends second, or do everything for your friends and put yourself second, but you can’t do both, no. i chose the friends first option, and it kills, to try and please everyone at once, because everyone wants different things, sometimes you have to scream to the world. Fine, you win this time. Others you have to stick out your middle finger and say, giving up? not this time buddy. That’s what i’m gonna do, i’m not gonna let it stop me, just slow me down. So maybe i’ll wait, wait to cry. Wait to scream. Wait till the silence swallows me. Or maybe, just maybe. I wont let it get me.
i think i should make this a new hobby, become a proffesional tumblrist. <3 i love pictures, because they speak loud when you run out of words. They give you new meaning to things you didn’t even know about. And taking a picture, well, that’s just reminding you of what it was like, what you did, it’s a memory, concealed forever, on a piece of delicate paper.
Being reminded of the past is like living a rollercoaster again and again. Sometimes its fun, whizzing around, recallling things that were fun again and again. But then you hit it. That one memory, that you want to forget. But you can’t, and it hits you like knives. The hurt in their eyes, the dispair in their lips, is somewhat telling you, what you just said, bought back a bad memory.. don’t do it.