Twist-turned-upside-down.

Sometimes, I think if there is a God, he likes playing hide and seek too much. Of course we must seek him out, but when we do seek, why does it seem like he isn't always there? It's like he's gone and hid himself in another universe we don't have access to. I think someone ought to re-explain the rules to him or to me, because somewhere...it all got confused.

Being alone in a crowded place...a contradiction. I have become a walking contradiction. I have begun to start laughing when I should be crying, crying when I should be laughing, and angry when I should be playing. Everything is backwards. I'M backwards.

I wish I were not real. That I could escape completely into the world of the characters all around me.

Alone in the crowd, darkness in light, death in life. Death...I wish I were dead, I wish I had the courage to die.

Hurt

I've felt pain before, who hasn't? But the pain that I feel now...it's as if all I AM is pain. It courses through me, tinging my every thought. I laugh, but then wonder why since I've ruined my life so completely. I get angry, but it eventually dissipates because I feel as if I have no right to anger when I did not scream. I feel as if the only emotion I am allowed is pain. All consuming, burning, murderous pain. I've been suicidal in the past, even planned it out. But now my impulses for suicide come randomly and several times I've only barely been able to stop myself. And then I wonder why I did. Sometimes I remember that I have family and friends who care, but sometimes I don't. Sometimes my loneliness is almost as bad as the pain. I have a sneaking suspicion that they feed each other.

Scream

I should have screamed. I should have fought. I didn't. I just lied there like a dead person. I can't take it back. I can't scream now to make up for it. I can't even scream out loud at all. Though, in my head, all I hear is screaming.

I watched Dear John tonight. I cried. I cried and I hated and I broke. I spent the next hour after driving. I drove to his city. I could not scream. I wanted to. Probably looked like a fish for all of the times I opened my mouth to try. I could not. Instead, I just drove. Did not even wander through the city. I entered it from the west, and left quickly through the south. Every minute I wanted to throw up. Yet, I could not even do that.

He's killed me and doesn't even care or know. And likely never will. All because I never screamed.

Guilty

I have now entered the ranks of the guilty ones. I could not bring myself to say no. I gave in. He knew I would and pressed it until I no longer even tried to fight. I have no one to blame but myself. And now, instead of being able to hold it inside like I had wanted, it has blown up before me. No jury would ever convict him when I was as stupid as I was. All I feel for myself now is hatred. Hatred at the monster I have become. I do not even desire his pain. I want only my blood. Not even to cut, but all of it. My desire to keep going...no longer exists. All that is left to me is a blood lust for my own life. For, without me in it, the world would have one less monster to ruin it. And, perhaps, that is for the best.