Tonight I realized how blind I have been my entire life. I thought people cared about me. Cared about what I had to say. Cared about how I felt. These qualities you would expect from any normal human being with feelings right? I thought so too. Why is it then, that I feel like no one gives a damn about me? I wake up in the morning, go to school, go to work, do my homework, go to bed. I effect no one's lives. So why would people have to care? I suppose you are thinking I am some nonsocial loser that likes to complain. The fact of the matter is, I love. I love everyone I meet. I care about people so much that it usually kicks me in the ass. So maybe today I'll stop caring. Stop lying my heart on the line so much. It's sad to say my life has come to this. But maybe it's time I protect myself.

Maybe it's time to go away from it all.


"Sometimes I can't hear myself think."
-poe

When I was younger I used to read for fun. Then I started having homework. Reading wasn't fun, who were teachers trying to kid? Reading was a task you only did just to pass. It was like pulling teeth, making people cry. Well, maybe that was just me. The summer of my 2nd grade year I entered the local library's summer reading program. I had to read 10 books during the summer. Who's stupid fucking idea was that? I have to admit, I did it. And I'm forever in debt to the library for making me. Reality check...I think all those summers ago when I read everyday of my life is the reason I have so few friends now. Maybe that's a stretch, but who really likes hanging out with someone who can name any Roald Dahl book in one note? That's what I thought. Well anyway to make a long story short, I'm now a junior in college. I bought two books about a month ago. You're thinking to yourself, she hasn't even opened them yet. WRONG! I've read both of them. And both have made me a better person. The last book I read was called Why Girls Are Weird. Shit. It was one of the best books I have ever read. Now, here I am, writting a journal. Exactly what the author told me not to do. This is the explanation of my madness and my journal named Why Girls Are Weird. Eat your heart out...