THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
You know, sometimes I worry about myself. I do. Really. Which is stupid because there are so may other things I should be worrying about- people with real problems. But I can't really do that when one coherant idea hasn't passed through my mind all day.
....
Seriously. I can't seem to think clearly lately. And all I want to do is draw. I haven't wanted that in a long time. And I can only write when music is playing. And I keep typing different words that I want to. And its not because I just can't type. Because I can- I don't even look or anything. But I keep writing the word Why without knowing it instead of other words. And I keep reading things differently than they are. Maybe its a psychotic form of dislexia that only appears when one is a teenager.
Yeah. Right. I'm sure that's it.
I want to go out and do something. But I almost never do that. All I ever leave the house for is to go to school, to ride, and to go to rehersals. And sometimes I make my parents take me on errands just so I can leave the house. I feel like I'm kind of missing something. I'm stuck in a little ill-lit room listening to satanic romantic music and eating when I should be out doing normal yes-I-am-a-teenager things. But I have yet to learn what those are. But come on. Other people don't do this. They have lives. My life exists in a stereo. End of story.
And so here I am. And I still can't think of what's wrong.
You know what else? I haven't watched TV in a week. Yeah. How's that for normal?
Fuck. I am so tired. So sick of this. I have to find some motivation for movement.