May 9th, 2013
The things people say, make me want to rip my skin off.
I’m a bomb. I’m timed just right.
May 9th, 2013
The things people say, make me want to rip my skin off.
I’m a bomb. I’m timed just right.
March 21st, 2013
How do you do the right thing?
For example. Making a second blog to freely express my unhappiness, was at the start a good idea, but now it’s become bad, vicious and addicting. I created a place where I could literally be as bad as I wanted, with no hope of anyone I love knowing, and stopping me. Mentioning said blog was a bad idea because the people who read this will ask for it, the people I care about will itch to see the secrets that I dare not tell. I will have to say ’ I can’t show you’ which is the wrong thing because they’re only trying to help. They want to see me get better, not worse.
I know I can’t be jealous, because I kissed someone too. I’m trying to be a better person but she’s evil. I want to say, yes her intentions were good and she wasn’t looking to hurt anyone, but she is evil. I want to say that it’s okay, but no matter what she wins doesn’t she? No matter what she hurt someone. I can’t tell him it’s okay and then have it not be. It can’t not be okay, it’s only fair is it not?
I was doing so well. Only you and I know what that means though. Everyone will have their own interpretation but, no one knows the real meaning. I’ve thrown it all away.
I don’t even want to go to school. I have to because i’m not going tomorrow and I didn’t go monday, and I only went half the day yesterday.
March 17th, 2013
The decisions I make today are going to impact me in the future. Every decision I ever make will force future me to feel a certain way. I need to do things right today. Because today matters. In the grand scheme, maybe not specifically, but this week, this month, yes it does matter. March 17th, will not be wasted, nor will the 18th, or 19th, I’ve let 16 days of this month alone , be spent moping and being sorry for myself, when it is my fault I’m like this in the first place. If I don’t do what i’m supposed to do, when i’m supposed to do it, then I cannot blame anything but myself. I didn’t look for a job when I was 16, or 17, two whole years went by before I tried. Now i’m 18 and unemployed, while everyone younger than me has a job, and can afford to do things, and it seems like they’re better off. I was the one who didn’t take english seriously, didn’t get into a class, and then put off getting booklets, and is now putting off doing those booklets. I had a plan, I was supposed to be complete in April. I’m not even finished one whole booklet, and April is in a little over two weeks. I’m failing myself. I need to stop feeling so sorry for what I did, and start making changes that will benefit me in the future, to a point where things are so good I don’t feel sorry for myself at all, for any reason. I need to do these things, I need to stop blaming others, and myself and just get on with it.
Thanks for listening;
March 13, 2013 part two;
I think I’m actually going to take some solid time to put you right at the front of the line of things to worry about, you’re 18 now after all.
The way I see it, if your spirit, or soul, or whichever is supposed to stay by me forever, then you know everything I could possibly tell.
Then there’s the other option, to believe you are nothing, but a rotting corpse in the ground who knows nothing of me, or about me anymore.
I’ll go with the second, so I have more to say.
As a person, I’m kind of beginning to fail at it. I’m devolving. I can’t seem to remember the difference between good and bad. All there is, is bad. At the very same time, I’m trying to decide who I love. Or if I know what love is at all. I’m bitter most days. I don’t go outside. All of the people who see me now, have not for quite some time. Always “you look different” “you look smaller” Well of course, no need to congratulate me or anything Jake, but nine pounds gone, since January. Not a lot for two months, oh I know, but I’m not doing much. Rugby is back though, so maybe I won’t be so uptight. Maybe it’ll help shave off another ten pounds.
If I were to use an analogy, for my life now, it’d be a sad one. It’d go something like this :
It feels like, I ran, and jumped into the deep end of a pool. And everyone was cheering me on as I sped toward the edge of the water. When I jumped they watched, but when my body collided full force with the pool, they all turned away to avoid being splashed. In life, it’s a lot harder to swim, unfortunately, and I feel like i’m drowning, but no one’s checking to see if I came up for air. They’re all still avoiding the now dry, drops from my huge figure falling into, well, the deep end.
That was a good one eh?
I’m supposed to be doing booklets to get a better english mark, to go to university to become a writer. Fat chance. I haven’t even picked up the first, of four booklets in a few weeks. Today was going to be the day, but alas, I am awake and all motivation has vanished, along with my first cup of tea. Maybe as an awful memorial trick, i’ll do something to better my life, compared to your now non existent one. I’m not trying to be rude, but you haven’t been around in a long long time.
I think the hardest part of it all, is you’re still here. Everyday. Catching the sun falling through the window a few seconds before it disappears for eleven long hours. You are those seconds, feeling endless until you pass by. Until i’m left with a memory of that too. You feel here. But that could just be my brain queuing you back to the surface when there’s everything else to think about, but why not. Are you demanding to be heard, is that what all of this is?
My biggest question perhaps, would be this. Although you were my best friend, will I remember your birthday in 10 years? Will I cry to my pillow every once in a while to your memory? Or will you just be someone else that I knew that I can’t ever know again? An irreplaceable soul that has touched my one day beautiful life. I know that all depends on if I keep you, locked away in the tallest towers of my heart, surrounded by fire breathing dragons, and the bones of failed knights. But what if those bones, and those dragons, and you, get swept away during the out of nowhere spring cleaning of my chest cavity in 2040? What if I put you out with the trash on a Thursday night, or even a Friday morning without noticing. What if I feel around for you, but don’t find you. What if I put two and two together, just as the garbage man hurls you into his truck, with the waste of other people. What if I lose you and can never get you back, for a second time?
This of course that would be my fault, careless Erin, always doing things she can’t undo.
When you die, do you feel people forget you? Or are there just so many people who cling to your memories that you can’t feel a thing? Or are you so dead and gone, that you don’t even realize we exist anymore?
Is it harder to be dead than it is to be alive?
Friday, November 30, 2012
I’ll probably take a few shots at this before I’ve said all I need to. I’ll probably go outside, get as high as I can, and come back and write something beautiful for you. I’ll probably have to stop a few times, get myself together, and start over again.
The past few days, have been pretty mild for November. Not warm, but not bone chillingly cold either. Today, oh today things have changed. I haven’t been outside yet, but the over all view from the window looks frozen. Cars pass, the wind blows the trees, and the grass, but even with things moving, it all looks frozen.
A few months ago, when I was really bad, I told myself that if I didn’t feel better by today, i’d take my own life. That’s something that’s been in my head. I haven’t told a single soul. The thing is, i’m not doing better at all. It’s like i’m screaming in my head, and no one can here me. My biggest fear, is being beautiful and pretty and everything everyone tells me I am, and only see this disgusting pathetic girl every time I look in the mirror. I’m scared that I’ll never see who I’ve become because I’m stuck hating who I am.
I may hate myself, but I really don’t want to die today.
I just want you back.
November 21, 2012
I can’t deal with things today, I knew this would happen, but I figured it’d start next week. I can’t really afford to miss any more school. I have my future to look forward to. Nine days, isn’t as long as you think it’d be. It feels like yesterday it was twenty days. It’s just approaching so fast, it hurts. I feel like i’m being backed against a wall. Maybe it’s whatever I have that’s talking, I don’t want to say depression, because it feels like more than that, but why should I even have a future? Why should I work for something, that could be ripped away from me? You wanted so much, and you don’t get that. I just wish I could give it to you instead. I wish that you could come back and take my place, because so many people love and miss you, and I feel so alone. I know you wouldn’t want me to give up but it’s hard. It’s not going to make me stronger when i’m older, it’s just going to have to make me lie more. If I grow old and have kids, they’ll ask what happened, what my scars are, and i’ll have to lie because I don’t want to hurt anyone else. But if they ever go through what I go through, what so many people go through, they’ll know, they’ll understand, but it won’t change that I lied, where’s the trust? I don’t know I just was so willing to get up and go this morning, and then now, I lost all motivation, and I plan on crying in my bed all day. I miss you. I wish you weren’t gone. I’ve give anything to have you back, and it’s killing me. I know you didn’t mean any harm, you were trying to do good, but it’s been almost a year and nothing is better. People promised it’d be better.
I know there are ways that I can make it better, I know that I can talk to people, I know there’s a million different medications, but I don’t want that. I know that if I got myself put on medication, i’d end up using it to kill myself on a bad day, where i’d usually just cut until i’m okay. I know it’d end bad. I know it. And as much as I want to die, right now, like this, I can’t do that to my dad. He doesn’t deserve a fuckup kid like me.
Another reason I don’t want to be put on medication is, it’s silly really but i’m afraid it’ll make me forget you. I don’t want to forget you, I can’t. Ugh idk, i’m just messed up. I’m sorry, i’m sorry, you must be so disappointed in me. You must hate me. I never wanted that, but I know you would. You’d pick me up off the floor, you’d look me in the eyes and you’d tell me to stop, you’d tell me i’m better than this, you’d tell me i’m stronger than this, and maybe the girl you knew was, but i’m not her anymore. Not without you. I’m sorry. I needed you, and fuck, why’d you have to do that? Why’d you have to be the hero. I wish I could hate you sometimes, you’re the reason you died. You are. You drove. I love you so much. I miss you.
November 19, 2012
I just want time to slow down. I can’t believe in 11 days you will have been gone for a year. A whole year. I’m breaking. I’m broken. I’m lost without you. A year is so long. I just want you back. I just need you back. Please come back. I can’t do this without you.
November 14, 2012
You know it’s pathetic. How badly I want someone to notice. And scream at me, and cry and tell me they love me, and beg me to stop and to feel so much that it’s there plain as day on their face. Words aren’t shit anymore Jake. Words aren’t shit. I need to see it. I want someone to notice, to ask, to finally understand me. But I hide it so well. I hide it so fucking well. The thing is, I don’t even hide it, so I can’t even be proud of myself. People see. People fucking see, and they just look the other way. The people who are supposed to fucking care about me, they look away. My dad makes excuses. I couldn’t possibly be cutting myself. Oh no, it’s just the cats, the cats scratch me that bad. Of course it’s the cats. My sister, she knows, she sees, she’s right there. She just tells me to stop. She knows it’s not that easy. Well, no she doesn’t she stopped as soon as she was in the hospital for over dosing.. yeah. Who the fuck is she to tell me to just stop.
All the lies people make for me, just help me lie to myself. I should be worried about myself, but I’m not. I don’t know how it’s possible for me to be this sad, and have no one notice. I just want someone to fucking notice that i’m okay.
I want that, but i’d rather not ruin anyone’s day, or week, or life, I don’t know. I’m tired of feeling like a burden, but i’m not even doing anything wrong. I just feel like such a waste.
I’m such a fucking waste.
October 28, 2012
33 days until it’s been a year. A whole goddamn year. How does that even happen? How can it still feel like yesterday we were goofing around thinking we’d be friends forever? How can one second be the difference between life and death? How can I still feel like I should have died instead of you? Here’s a list of things that go through my head when I think of you.
I’ve been a lot more sad, a lot more often, and maybe it’s because every second of every day I miss you, or I know how close it is to a year. I’m not sure, but I’m trying really hard not to give up. To find something to live for. I’m trying to pretend like i’m not completely broken, so the people who worry about me don’t have to. I know they see right through me. Everyone stops caring eventually though. I feel like instead of understanding they’re thinking ’ why is she still so sad about it, it’s been almost a year’
It’s not that I don’t have friends, I just prefer to be alone. I don’t like being sad in front of people. For reasons, if you’re watching me, you already know. I know I promised i’d never do that, but I had nothing else. I couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to feel something, and the normal places did nothing. They weren’t deep but they’re still kind of scaring, and I really wish I didn’t because now for every single thing I feel, I want to do it again. Even when i’m happy. If you can even really call it that.
I don’t know, I’m just lost. And some days, for a split second I forget you’re gone and I find myself, but as soon as you’re gone, I’m gone too.
I don’t even know who I really am anymore.
October 8th, 2012.
I had a dream about you again. It had a lot to do with that 911 call thing I listened to last night before bed. I think about you constantly and the guy’s name was also Jake so it didn’t surprise me much. Anywhere, here you go.
We were at school i think, like a school or something, and i saw you and i hugged you and I told you how much I love you and missed you, and you were so happy. And then this girl, well woman, i guess she was a guardian so to speak because she said I couldn’t see you because of what you’ve done. My guess is you hurt someone because the Jake guy in the 911 call killed his mom and sister..
Anyway, I got mad, and was in a bathroom with Kerri, not my sister, Kerri Kummer, and she let me beat her up so I had to go to the office so I could see you again, because that’s where you went. Then as i’m beating her up, well I felt bad and cleaned her bloody face, you came in and said that you had to go, but that everything would be okay.
And then I woke up.
It was nice seeing you again.
I miss you,
I love you.
October 5th, 2012
In two short months, it will be an entire year that has passed since you’ve been in my life.
Time’s a funny thing. It’s hit me pretty hard the past few weeks, thinking of how life was, how it’s all changed, how the people who used to mean so much to you, can move on with their lives, and you can’t expect them to stay. That’s selfish. But they move on and never really remember you, and it doesn’t seem like it was that long ago that you saw them, but then, in what was what seemed, such a short amount of time, they’ve molded themselves, created a life, had children, got jobs, moved away. Grown up.
I know that the majority of my friends from my childhood were older than me. By a significant amount. But i’d never picture him being a father at 25, and for her to have a law degree at 22. It all seems so weird, in my head, they’re still 15 and wanting me to stop hanging around them. They’re still in bands that never went passed a fan base of 30, and still staying out all night long with boys they had just met. In my head, they should still be home. Maybe it’s because i’m so much younger than them, that i’m not at the point which I can move on that significantly. I can’t move out, or have a child, or buy a house, or a car, or anything that they’ve done. I’m still too young. I’m only 18. I forget that a lot, because all my life, i’ve had older people around. Even as I grew up, through high school, having someone a year older than you, was a big difference mentally.
They were always ahead of where I could be, even if I wanted to catch up.
You being gone for a year, also marks a year since i’ve been with tyler, which is also weird, I don’t see how it could have possibly been a year. Someone mixed up, there’s a whole 6 months missing from every calender. It’s not right.
A year used to be a lifetime, now it’s like you blink and you miss it all.
I’m afraid, that two years will come so quick and i’ll forget you.
then three years,
and soon enough i’ll have my own life, just like everyone who’s left me to do so has done,
Who will I leave behind and forget to remember?
Who will die, and me only have memories of our childhood to remember them by?
What if i’m the one who dies, and what if i’m forgotten?
I’m seeing kerri today,
it’s been a long time since we’ve sat down, and rebuilt our relationship.
All this thinking, makes me want to build stronger relationships with people, so I have more to look back on when i’m old and gray and everyone who promised would stay has gone for one reason or another.
I’m nervous. I remember when we would call you and I would talk to Brent for every because he was my boyfriend, and she would always hangup, and then this one time when you asked us to call you guys, she wrote a script on a piece of paper because it would be funny. It was something about a whore service, because that had become a huge part in our dictionaries, under the list of words we weren’t allowed to say around our parents. But she wrote it on paper, and when you called because we took too long, she answered with what was on the paper and everyone laughed. I remember more clearly my dad coming home and seeing the paper and being very upset that I would use such language.
I think he was more concerned with the fact that we could have been prank calling people. I was always too afraid to do that anyway.
See it’s funny, any other day, I wouldn’t remember that time. But I do, because you, and kerri, and brent, oh I worry about him. It’s just been so long, I don’t know how to talk to him.
Kerri’s on her way, so I have to go,
This has taken me 28 minutes, but I know I could go on for hours.
I’m just worried.
I love you.
Please help me.