There's a drug for this...

I'm frantically picking the polish from my fingers. Tearing it off as though it were burning me. Clearly, there's something on my mind. Jealousy, rage, the feeling of being trapped... These all sum up my thoughts. Can I place them into actual words that you can understand without being inside the mind of the tortured thinker? Probably not.

I thought long and hard about ending these posts today; deleting the whole damn thing. A total of one post, right out the window. Would that be noticed? I doubt it; I doubt it was even read by any outside entity other than its writer. And even then it was barely read. I tend not to "proof-read," except for spelling mistakes. Reading over what I've written just makes me want to throw it all away. So if I'm going to keep this up, there will be none of that. Besides, it's another way for my critical self to find a way to censor what I write. If I read it over and over, the whole thing will come out pretty and fake, just like everything else I do.

Nothing about my thoughts is pleasant. I try to make it seem as such because I'm afraid of losing people. I make friends here and there, but does anyone really get it? I don't think so, but if you feel like you do then speak up! I'd like to know.

After three paragraphs, this is turned out just as I thought; a series of thoughts that really have nothing to do with anything. Nothing is related to itself, it's just me blankly typing. The thought makes me want to cry. Real crocodile tears. That's sad, isn't it? Sitting in front of my computer screen and crying over things I've written simply because there's no order...

I've been told that I'm too emotional. Did you ever think that I have just the right amount of emotion and all of you are cold and hardened? Of course not. Because I'm always apologetic and critical, it's much easier to push it off as my problem and not yours. But don't worry...

...I'm sure there's a drug for this.

\m/