The sun shines bright but I can no longer walk into the light.
My darkness cannot exist without a light source.
I guess that means I'm half a person.
A lonely half person.
These are the days when I let myself vocal my insecurities.
How ever many or few there are.
It really depends on the day.
Well let's talk about today.
I baked blueberry muffins.
I've gotten pretty good at baking since I can't go anywhere really.
Well I can't go to public places.
No parks.
No malls.
No schools.
No random walks/jogs.
I have to sit in place and deal with the things as they come.
It makes me really assess my life.
It's not a good thing.
I stopped liking my life a long time ago.
If I think about it too much I could get suicidal.
Who's to say I don't pull the needle out in the middle of my next session?
Let myself die "accidentally".
Anyway I don't feel sick.
I didn't have to go to chemo yesterday so I'm not nauseous.
I've got this whole week to dread what is probably going to hurt worse on Monday.
I don't really want to think about that.
I hate how I can't persuade myself.
I hate how I can't lie to myself.
I hate how I can't console myself.
I hate how I can't seem to not hate the fact that I can't let go.
I hate how I miss the things I hate.
I hate my anxiety.
I hate how I bleed profusely.
I hate my sudden and incredibly painful heart attacks.
At least that's what I'm calling them.
I forgot the medical term.
I hate how much medicine I take.
I hate hospitals.
I hate that I riddled with sickness.
I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate.
I love Alejandra.
I love my Doctor.
I love romance.
I love the idea of having a daughter.
I love how I slept almost regularly for about a week.
I love my bookmark.
I love my rock.
I love this stupid stick Sara gave me.
I love how I haven't gotten too mad lately..
That's about all I got.
It isn't too much, but that's okay I guess.
I'm crying right now.
It might be a memory that isn't quite forming yet.
That's another thing I hate.
I hate my memory.
I hate the things that happened in my childhood.
I hate forgetting the things I want to remember.
I hate remembering the things I want to forget.
I hate how I think my hair is starting to fall out.
I hate all the twitches and shakes I get because I haven't been drinking.
I hate how they wont give me any more painkillers.
I hate how Tylenol doesn't taste as good as it used to.
I love how every time I find hair on me I laugh because I think of Alejandra.
I hate the idea of becoming the one who stays alone after high school.
I hate how everyday this becomes more and more true.
I hate that I'm alone right now.
I hate how it always seems to be I against I I against I I against I I against
Can you guess what song I'm listening too.
I love how music hasn't stopped being able to shut out the voices.
I love the empty person I become when I'm playing music in my ears.
I love how happy I can be when I feel nothing.
I love how the noises in my head quiet down when I think of bad things.
I say I love it but I know I don't want it.
Defense mechanism, cry for help.
Early beginnings of Sociopathy.
Crying tears of blood.
It's actually a symptom of many things.
It could be because I have cancer in my eye too.
Wouldn't that be nice?
More ******** things wrong with me.
Just so ******** much.
As if I was starting to get bored being the ******** freak of the whole god forsaken planet. Of course not though how could I ever get ******** sick of this s**t? Please tell me let me know tell me someone is there for me as you stick that ******** medicine inside of me. Let me go home to vomit my ******** organs out and when I'm done I will walk around my empty ******** house. But no...of course not I'm not alone there's people here. Inside me and so I'm ******** crazy or so it goes. I can't just have homicidal urges and rape fantasies there has to be something wrong with me. I have to be lacking somewhere; missing something that everyone has. Because no one else in the world thinks sex with a corpse might be fun, I'm alone here inside of this ******** darkness. I'm judged and I'm alone. The light of society has branded me and I can't do anything about it. So I ******** sit here playing loud music, with lyrics to match the things I think about. Waiting and watching for the moment when I clearly can't control myself. I know it's coming and I know I might be just a little wrong here, but I can't help it. I'd love to say I'm done being alone, but it's not going to change anything. I'm going to turn around now, and look at my room. Contemplate suicide or something I don't know. Sadness and