it's four in the morning and the only thing i seem to be doing is pumping caffeine into me. am i out of my mind. geez. my body clock's all wrong. i should be asleep. damn. i feel like a soldier put at the front line of the war. everyone knows, the frontliners are always the first to die. but what am i dying for? a bunch of textbooks? a bloody dpa into a poly? or a one way ticket to hell?

the saying "life's a bitch" really fits perfectly to a T. everything moves so slowly, not the pace i want, but the countdown, that's the bitch that keeps shrinking. oh damn, just shoot me. gone with the wind are the times i sat and read, or just rocked to music. yeah i still do that sometimes, in front of math equations staring blankly straight back at me.

and you, what do you want from me? don't drag me around the bushes and leave me in its thorns. just say it. dammit. your hints are bloody big, but they're hints and words, i can't substantiate that. god. say it. whatever you want. just clear the air. i don't care what happens with us, be it last time or in the future, all i ask is you that you don't ovetire yourself. you have so many things going on, school, church and two jobs to keep you afloat. you don't wanna admit it but you'll run out of gas someday. don't act strong. i know you. you're stubborn. you don't take care of yourself. please do okay. don't say you want to pick me up from night study or send me to school when you don't even have time for yourself, neither have i seen you since i stopped going to church. stop this absurdity and mystery. your absence and presence is disturbing.

i'm turning into a hermit now. my social life's dead. i come online at bloody 4 in the morning, all i greet is a ghost of myself in 3 months to come. oh hell, my freedom comes only when i try to master the moonwalk? today i was sick. literally and fugaratively. sick in the stomach. pun intended. i went bowling. it was okay. dad taught my the spin. i don't know. everything seems a blur. i just bowled the damn thing, no satisfaction at hitting the damn pins down. no life. no air.

i have to go to school. i can't bowl. i can't sleep. i can't msn. i can, but i'll feel guilty. this feels like the time i was with jeff. restricted. very. more, in fact. gahh. i tell people to persevere, but am i breaking down now? you bloody chicken you. no space to fly, or not guts?

i'm sorry i blew you off today ben. i went back on my word to gym with you. was sick and down.
oh hell, did i actually give up gyming too? what else next, stranger in the mirror?

uncle has st mary's funfair this sunday. he's owning the music booth. he wants me to go down and DJ the funfair. should i? screw you, studies.

dad calls me an owl. pfft. i'm just girl with not more life. fuck the free world man. the walls are closing down on me. darkness looms. i'm sinking into a depthless whirlwind of blackness.