12:23 am / 26.03.06
lately I've been feeling like the future isn't out there. I've had this horrid fear that I am not supposed to be alive much longer, and thinking about that... it doesn't really scare me. The fact that it doesn't scare me, scares me a little bit.
I'm not a very important person. I haven't really affected anyone's life in a posative way, and it's not like I'm beautiful so people think of me as a muse or anything. I really am a quite disposable human. Most of the time, i feel like my feelings are being wasted. I feel like I use too many words.
You know what I think the worst part is. I don't really have an opinion of myself. I mean, somtimes I think "yeah, i'm not ugly" but other times i think"ugh, i am the ugliest person in the world!" but most of the time, i just think i am mediocre. I don't really give a fuck weather i live or not.
the biggest insult someone can give you is not remembering who you are, or just not caring either way for you, not loving you but not hating you either. just... balenced meh?
That's how my life is. If I died.. the funeral would be pathetic. Seriously pathetic. I doubt they would even need to tell anyone, and no one would notice. My parents might be sad, but everyone else would forget me within a year.
You think about people like Nick(a guy i knew growing up, who drown when I was in middleschool) who had such an affect on people... hundreds of kids showed up for his calling hours. I still see things that remind me of him. Even after 5 1/2 years I am still thinking of him.
I don't think i deserve to be mourned though. I havent done anything special. I haven't helped anyone in particular. I'm not a great friend, I lie, I'm fat and lazy. I haven't written something to be praised, or made some great piece of art. I have produced nothing benefitial for the world.
This entry isn't even depressing me. It's actually making me feel a bit better, because at least I'm saying something true. I am so sick of lying about everything. I hate living in this dream that i've made up. I tell these lies, and then accept them as truth, even though I know they're lies, and eventually I start to believe them. I forget which things are lies, and which things are true. I'm just glad that for the first time in a while i'm saying something true.
I think my lies have hurt me deeper than i realize.