playing let’s pretend

oh hey guys. so it’s two in the morning and obviously everyone wants me to be really really happy right? so let’s try to be happy.

i just went on a taco run which was dumb because everyone in the car ignored me but i did get tacos so that makes my life GREAT

guess what else is nice? root beer. ohhhh yeah. root beer and my cat and the sound of the night. that’s enough to make a girl smile. that makes all the bad things in my life go away.

skype is nice to have open cuz i get to stare at his name all day. that makes me happy. and then when i’m not looking at skype, i’m looking at this depressing blog and reading all my old posts from when i was GOOD at faking happiness! but wait i’m trying tonight so okay let’s be happy.

happy happy happy. i see a plate and some white out and some pills and now that i’ve seen the pills that’s all i can think about. they’re these extra strength migraine pills (ohhh yeah) and i want to swallow about seventy two of them right now but i won’t cuz this is happy time.

i bet i’d be happy if i punched myself in the face right now. i bet that would be awesome. let’s just do that. let’s just punch myself in the face.

fuck all of you. i’m so angry.

alright. so i tried to hold in my sadness or whatever forever. that lasted about three years, which i think was pretty good for someone who puts themself out on the internet all the fucking time. so now that i’ve “come out” as a depressed skinny white shit, that’s all i ever talk about, whether it be twitter or email or skype or this motherfucking fail of a blog or whatever. and APPARENTLY that’s not good. cuz everyone might say they give a fuck but in the end, they just feel uncomfortable as fuck when i rattle on and on about my sadness. in reality, no one wants to fucking hear it. no one. they’d much rather .. admire my sadness from afar. you know. like that relative you don’t really like but you put up with and send the occasional christmas card to. they’re like, hey, i’m sorry your sad, i really am, but i’m gonna go have an awesome time with some other nice and happy and fun friends. i’ll see you later.

like, i like to have fun too. i’m not really there for all of it and my mind kinda drifts but overall it’s an okay feeling, having fun. i like to drink and smoke and fuck, i like to have sex, and i think it’s okay to be depressed and doing that stuff too. i know i’m not all here (which, oops, my bad, you guys don’t want to fucking hear about.) but the parts of me that are want to have a good time. do you think i enjoy sitting here doing nothing all fucking day? you think i like hearing the same fucked up thoughts going over and over again through my mind? do you think i enjoy dp?! fuck no! i want to get out and get wasted and be stupid and do dumb things. that is what i want to do. because i am a stereotypical fucking sixteen year old: depressed and horny. right? isn’t that right? is that what your analysis has proven? that’s all i am.

fuck all of you! god fucking damn it. i hate you. i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you.

you know what i’m gonna go do after this? have a fucking cigarette. and then i’m gonna go to sleep and wake up in four hours and go see the motherfucking hotel for dogs movie. cuz i’ve got no life. cuz i’m fucked up. cuz there is nothing to do ever in life and no point in doing it but you fucking do it anyways because otherwise you die. and when i say die i mean you kill yourself. and no offense, depersonalization, i know you really want that, but i don’t. i want a fucking chance and i want to be okay and i want to live and i want to drink and i want to smoke and i want to have sex and i want to have a job and i want to go to school and i want to fucking sleep so goodnight.

and guess what? i’m not fucking sorry for this blog. all of you assholes who read can fucking SUCK IT. you don’t have to comment, who the FUCK cares, but you can read this and know … what? that i’m fucking crazy? that i probably shouldn’t be posting this? that you’re an asshole, that you’re all fucking assholes? yes. that one. know it and feel it and fuck it until you’ve understood.

alright goodnight. fuck fuck fuck fuck.


~ by junkinmahcranium on July 28, 2010.

4 Responses to “playing let’s pretend”

  1. I’ll never know what it’s like, I know you know that. It’s so hard to know what to say, how you will interpret these little pixels on the screen. I want to be there for you but I’m hundreds of miles away over the sea. My only tethers to you are digital. Despite that I crave to be as fucking supportive as I can be but I don’t have a fucking clue what would be the best route of action for me to be there for you. Just know I am.

  2. Nora, I know you probably don’t want to hear whaat I have to say or anything, and you may think I’m an asshole because I don’t understand, but I do care for you a lot. I wish there was a way that I could help, but I know there isn’t. I do care for you, and I worry about you frequently.
    I’m sorry you’re so angry and upset.
    But you are better than pretending. You are better than depersonalization is letting you be. You are still there, despite this disorder. I know you are. I love you and want you to know I am always here for you.
    I know there’s no way for me to help, and there’s no way for dp to just go away, but I’ll always be writing things on your facebook wall or texting you or something and hopefully the things I say will keep making you smile. If it does, that means all my worrying is worth it.
    You are worth my worry.
    I love you.

    27 days ❤

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