swear im clinical

i might dedicate myself to a cheshire lifestyle. manical. enthusiastic.
fake.

painfully buzzed and the outcast. toast to the third wheel syndrome. eyes closed to the tears and fingers going at the rate of my thoughts. typing on phones to pretend to fit in. faked laughter and forced smiles. this is how i deal with people i dont care about, not the people i care worlds and oceans about.
just down another and embrace liquid friendship. this is all expected.
its nothing like i expected. i have painted a picture perfect situation over the past four years and two weeks of imperfection, four months of pure struggle, and one week of familiar bliss is (hopefully not) enough to destroy a strong bond between five entities.
we've been alone for only four months and in that time developed and not completely included the others. some more so than others.
i blame it on the medicene, but it could possibly be symbolic of getting rid of friendships, of stress, of taking in too much. why must one take on all the problems and responsibilies that aren't hers? is this just a fluke.. shall we give it another few months and see how things go?

[untitled]

i'm a very broken individual.
im done with fringes and hidden messages to make how i feel seem better.
to make it seem that if its disguised in pretty prose, at least something good came out of it.
im writing for myself, im not writing for anyone else.
i dont care if there is someone reading this, and i dont care if no one does.

i am exhausted with coming home. i am exhausted with jolts in reality from happiness to brokenness. from something semi complete to something shattered and torn at the seams. and there is nothing i can do about it. there is nothing i can say to fix anything, to gloss over broken edges and to fix things that were once beautiful. i cant handle it, i cant handle it as a person or in the state or how i am.
i am tired of no support and half support and the line between laughter and disappointment being so thin its barely there. i cant keep projecting everything on myself and i cant keep ignoring the issue and pretending everything is okay.
i want to get so far away from here that i go back in time to a better place, to a better instance.
to when it was okay to say what i wanted to do and i didnt have to worry about freedom or desire. i am so tired of dealing with 'okay's and 'no way's. i cant handle this anymore and theres nothing left for me to do but to handle it.
im breaking, im breaking so far down and im blaming everything on myself.
i cant do it. i cant deal with it. i cant keep doing this.
i am SO frustrated with everyone turning a cold shoulder to one another and overlooking cracked feelings. hurt is plain in sight and yet there is nothing for anyone to feel.
i long to spill this to someone who will care, who will give a fuck.
and i cant even find anyone to do such a thing. im so sick of turning to the same people, and im so tired of projecting myself onto people who dont care.
i cant handle it. i need advice, i need out. i need a fix.
more than anything, i need this fixed.

oh but dont worry. just keep it on the inside.
you arent allowed to feel alive, anyway.

do you ever think thats why i live for such recklessness and unpredicability. for something thats spontaneous and new everyday?
do you ever think that could be it?
if you dont try to fix this, im gone for good.
im not even remotely kidding.
i can do this. i can support myself.

i wont be coming back.

its been a bad day

he screams for help but no ones hears; his words fall not on ears but on skin. there isnt a single physical thing sharp enough to break the surface, not paperclips, not pencils, not razors. only words and pain far beyond anything he can understand. and the fastness of being alone. it takes his breath away--to be standing in the corner watcing the people around him laughing. he is hit with the overwhelming pain of aloneness, of nothingness, of lonliness in a crowd. his knees buckle and he collapses sideways into a chair, the shot glances blaming it on the alcohol and pur him another glass. its the feeling of desparation; give me anything for tonight. i can make it through alive. take my mind away from here. recklessness to keep myself from screaming.

i am gone. i have passed the state of normality and entered into a ward.
break free.

its never the same the next day. only worst or better. its echoes of last year, but they arent disappearing. im at the other end of the tunnel, hearing my voice come back louder. so surreal, so unknown.

fate fell short this time

discontentment is more than a phrase; it can be a way of life.
i hate being alone and i hate being discluded and you do such a good job of making sure i am
is it fair? is it?
to leave me out? everyone else knows. stolen glances and secret laughs gives way to the truth.
something this little shouldn't matter. my mind is a magnifying glass.
everything is blown out of proportion.
i'm the sound of overdramatics and heartattacks.
im what you don't hear in the day that makes itsself louder in the night.
louder now.

so are those smiles fake? you're eyes tell otherwise.
best friends means.. best friends means..

i dont even know anymore.
loud music and long breaks couldn't come at a more perfect time.
forget this.

im so oblivious to the truth; to the real world.
have i always been so naive?
i'm done.
im done with it all.