AH

Help.
I'm drowning in this mixed up, complicating, fucked up, misunderstood, completely insane, world.
I can't stand people but I need them.
They drive me insane.
I don't know what to do.
I get in trouble for bitching, but I also get in trouble for bottling things up.
SO what do I DO?!

Because I've go no idea anymore.
I can't be helped.
Asking for help is like asking a pile of sand for a glass of water in the fucking desert.
It's crazy and nonexistent.
Yeah, people say they can help.
To an extent I guess they could, but not what I need.
What do I need?
I don't even know, but I'm pretty sure no one could give it to me.

Sometimes I wonder why I keep trying, but then I know I'm doing it for something.
What exactly?
I'm not sure, but it's there...Something that keeps me from pulling my hair out, screaming at the fucking world, and setting something on fire.

I sound like a crazy ass bitch, but you know what? The world made me that way.
So there.
I can't help the events that have made me the way I am, there was nothing I could do about it.
So things have been done, what's done is done.
Nothing to do now except wait for the next thing that's going to happen to happen.
Just take a deep breath and keep going, wondering what crazy ass event is coming next.
But that's okay, just like everything else I'll keep going and survive.
And wonder why?

Sometimes I feel like I'm just in a third person kind of view.
Because I see what's going on, I experience, and I feel it.
But it doesn't feel.... like I'm actually there.
It's hard to explain, and I don't really care to try.
I can't explain something to someone else when I can't even explain it myself.

Sometimes I think about just taking off, just put on my sneakers and start running.
Not looking back, just going.
Where exactly?
I wouldn't really know or care, I'd just be going.
I basically do that now, I'm just running from day to day.
Surviving, but not exactly living.

I can't complain.
At least I am alive, right?
Yeah...
Sometimes I feel like I'm the world's weirdest person, and that no one can and ever will get me or even care to try.
I'm complicated as hell, confused, crazy, misunderstood, never really been understood, lost, etc. Etc. Etc.
The list goes on and on and on and on and on....

Does anyone really care?
Not really.
Do I need to get this shit out anyway?
Yeah, I do.
Writing and music keeps me sane.
It's what helps me live.
I can be what I want when I write, I don't have to be what someone else wants.
It's mine and no one can change that, and I wouldn't care if they tried.
They might be able to control a lot of other things, but some things you just can't.

I can't leave, but I don't want to stay.
I want to stay, but I need to leave...
Does that make much sense?
Kind of, but not really.

I know myself, but I don't.
It's just the way it is.

People are always talking about finding themselves.
How do you do that exactly?
I sure as hell don't know.
And I don't really think you can ever find yourself completely.
There's always going to be something missing... it's just how thing's go...

Onto another night of shitty sleep.