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Where Is My Mind?
Yep. My Journal. On gaia. About my ways and such.- []-
Desperate
I figured people just don't read this so whatever..but I'm just far too desperate to be heard.
Maybe most people want that.
But, being a shy person, its really over-critical.
I make this more important than it should be.
I like to have my things read. I like when someone notices something..
But I don't like being watched. Or talking in front of a crowd.
Or crowds, in general.
That aside, I'm terrified of clowns.
I don't like talking much.
And its hard for me to warm up to strangers.
Its not as bad as it used to be, but I still let it get in the way.
Another bad thing to be is to be shy, and a dreamer.
Especially when that dreamer has an overactive imagination.
And is a lucid dreamer when sleeping.
And that person has a great, questionable memory.
And that persona likes to seclude themselves by putting a blanket over reality and go to their fantasy world.
But I don't care.
I love it.
I'll either, succeed in making a living with it or die with it.
And I don't care which one.
Lol..as long as I have a baby before I die, since I keep stealing babies in apocalyptic dreams.
Well, it doesn't matter much.
I don't want to bore anyone.
I just want someone to read this. Even one.
Even a glimpse, and I can sleep better.
Because I want someone to know something no one else know, even if its just a little.
I'm outside of my school right now. Waiting. Questioning whether this should be the day where I wander around or another day where I sit and wait and stare at the floor waiting for something to spot my eye.
Well, the sad truth is that I'll stay seated till my a** hurts..or until Emily comes out.
Pretty disappointing, but I set myself up for it.
Just one view is all I ask for.
Doesn't matter if I know you or not, or if this was coincidental.
But I'm shy, and I just want someone to know something about me.
Shy people can also be selfish.
And maybe a little creepy.
And think about murder or strange coincidences, accidents, death, gore, inhumane things, dead bugs, crunchy leaves, clean ears, characters, friends, family, strangers, strangers, fantasies, dreams, and themselves.
But I could be just talking about myself.
It doesn't mean I'm a bad person.
And I'm not confused, I don't need a therapist either.
I just like the things I thinkk about.
And there's a lot more.
I'm not creepy, some people think so, but I'm not.
And I put "strangers" twice because there's two different types of strangers to me.
Is it always the quiet ones?
Cause I don't get it.
Well, I hope SOMEONE took a look at this because my hand hurts from texting all this. And I'm gonna remember the pain when I look at a 0.
Well. Do I sound desperate?





 
 
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