• I didn't have a bad day, I didn't have an interesting day, I didn't have a nice day, I just had a day, I suppose. These are the days I feel the worst. I made this tree out of baling wire. It's awful, so just stop talking about it and complimenting it. You want it? Kay, take it, take it from my sight. It took me about forty minutes to make, twisting wire, it's the next Mona Lisa. I don't know why I just felt angry there. I don't understand me anymore. What happened? I used to feel okay. More okay than this. I felt okay around Christmas time. It was sweet then, it can't always be sweet, and I need to stop feeling so left down. It's getting ridiculous. I called today, after school. 'Mhm, and whatca comin' back for?' the secretary's voice asks me, and I can't remember what her face looks like. 'Oh..uh...just...you know, depression stuff,' I feel lost and unable to speak. Is she going to write that down? That's not the truth! I lied. Did you really have to ask? Can't I just tell her myself? There are people in the room...am I really supposed to say? The feelings swimming in my chest are a smoothie of self loathing, failure, shamefulness, and let down. Why am I feeling so let down? Why do I feel like something has changed, even though it has been said you still feel the same. It's just me. I'm certain. This time, I think if she tells me to take the pills, I'm going to take the pills. I feel so worthless and unhappy. I constantly question if my friends like me or if my love loves me. They don't even have to give me reason. I have this constant need to be reassured, like a crying child, it's weak and annoying. Part of me wants to just start isolating myself. There can be no let down, no final goodbye without a phrase if I just leave. I'm replaceable, I believe. If I can't be, you can call me, and I'll answer. That or the want for friendship and love with drive me mad and I'll call. I'll be weak and desperate, I'll need you. Why do we have to be so mean to each other? I understand it in the moment of anger. My head is clear, like an open field, my tongue dances and lashes behind my straightened teeth. Later though, I feel such shame, even if they deserved it. Even if they had it coming, even if I am so close to truly hating them. We're all just going to die. Shae sent me a message. Frozen, I sat there, gaping at the computer screen. Lack of breathing forces me to choke, letting tears pour out and breath pour in. I needed you then, but you were sleeping. I was stupid for needing you. You don't need me. I don't want to need anyone, it makes me feel so weak to know I do, to know you don't. This is becoming pathetic, somewhat like it's writer. Quote of the Day: ~"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons."~ --T.S. Eliot There's this poster on the way to the art room that says, 'Anger is one letter away from Danger.' When I see it always think, 'Shame is one letter different than his name.'

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