thoughts

I’m hungry but there is nothing to eat. The refrigerator is broken. I am lonely but I hate everyone I know. People make me anxious. The only people who don’t bore me are the biggest assholes I know. The only people who keep me interested are the people who have no interest in me. No one is taking an interest in me. It was cloudy all day and I felt like I couldn’t breath for most of it. I went to sleep too late for no good reason, and I woke up early to see that my brother didn’t take the trash bins out. The day started badly. The sun is shining now and I want to shut my blinds and shoot the birds. The only other breathing being in the house is my sister’s cat and his fur sheds and gets in my mouth and on my sheets. My room is disgusting. I can’t throw the beer cans out because the recycling bin is full. The house is dirty and smells like cigarettes smoked last month and skunked beer sweat. The sludge that came out of the clogged drain is still on the bathroom floor, a portion of it is Leah’s vomit. The other day I was in the Kennedy plaza bathroom and I could hear a girl burping and vomiting in the stall next to mine. I covered my ears and shut my eyes but I could still hear the clogged air and bile coming up through her mouth into the toilet and into the air. I woke up too early that day and drank too much black coffee, even though I know it makes me anxious. The night before was awful. James and I sat outside and fought about a relationship between us that will never work but we keep trying to make it come alive. We both beg each other to stop being distant and stop fucking things up but we both know that there is nothing there. The people on the porch could most likely hear us the whole time. I was so embarrassed when I realized people were probably listening. Meanwhile Bryan was inside with his ex-girlfriend. I told him I was crazy and sad and anxious and all the time in the back of my mind I thought he wouldn’t care. The point of saying it all out loud was to be as honest and real in his eyes as I could, and I think that was the problem. I was too real and too sad and he can’t “guarantee” that he won’t like his ex-girlfriend, the girl with the big nose and the Rhode Island accent that acts like every other dumb bitch you see doing a keg stand at a state school fraternity party. After that night I wanted to get away because my days spent here are long and tired. I sat across from Kennedy Plaza on the grass in a park by myself, with white trash families complaining about their family drama uncomfortably loudly and making scenes in their bathing suit top bras and dirty white sneakers. All I could think about was if my heart gave out right then. If I had a heart attack while I was sitting alone on the grass, no one would know. Only one friend knew I was going to New York, and she wasn’t expecting me back for a few days. She was mad at me, too, so she wasn’t expecting me to check in. I would silently die and everyone would think I had fallen asleep. I bet nobody would know until the police or the park rangers scoped out the park at dusk to make sure nothing illegal was going on. They would say “Miss, time to leave the area,” and when I didn’t respond they would touch my shoulder to try and wake me up, and as they realized that I wasn’t asleep they would go on their walkie talkies, and the headlines the next day would read “Girl Dies Alone in Park” and the subtitle would say “Unidentified girl lay dead in the grass for hours before anyone noticed.” That’s the way my brain works now. I am constantly thinking of headlines that could possibly appear as the title of the article that tells the story of my death. “Girl Dies Sitting Alone on a Bus.” “Missing Girl Dies Tragically in New York City.” “Sadness Kills Young Girl.” The articles would tell the story of how I was a smart girl with a lot of friends, who died of an unexpected heart attack due to repeated panic attacks and the overproduced of adrenaline that made her heart go haywire. She finally met the death she had been anticipating.

I want college so badly it hurts, but I can't imagine leaving my best friend, because when I am missing her I am missing a piece of me.
I'm sick of love I'm ready for less.
I hope one day what I write will impact someone, even if they're nobody.

I remember a summer's day
I remember walking up to you
I remember my face turned red
I remember staring at my feet
I remember before we met
I remember sitting next to you
I remember pretending I wasn't looking
So try and try even if it lasts an hour
with all our might try and make it ours
cause we're on our way we're on our way
I remember your old guitar
I remember I can't explain
I remember the way it looked around your neck
and I remember the day it broke
I remember the song you sang
I remember the way you look tonight
I remember the way you made me feel
we'll try and try even if it lasts an hour
with all our might we'll try and make it ours
cause we're on our way we're on our way
to fall in love.
You'll try and try even if it lasts an hour
With all our might try and make it ours
cause we're on our way to fall in love.
yeah we're on our way to fall in love.
we're on our way to fall in love.
we're on our way to fall in love.

Actually, probably not.

maybe if i wrote things down more i'd be less crazy