Transatlanticism
by jadie0is0saved on April 20, 2011Sometimes it's hard to believe there are over 6.5 billion people on Earth, because right now I feel so lonely. I feel lonely most of the time, but I guess it's something you just have to get used to. I guess I'm hoping I'm going to write something profound and meaningful in this entry but my hollow head isn't going to come up with much. I know, I'm hoping someone is going to stumble across this and read it but this is just going to be lost in the masses of journal entries there are.
I just need to write words.
Listening to Transatlanticism by Death Cab For Cutie, another song to add to the infinite list of songs I love even though they break and impale my heart... in a good way... if that's possible... I keep the shards in my hands and they are beginning to cut... I'm bleeding words, bleeding all over the keyboard and I can't stop writing... I wish I could just lock all these words away in my ribcage but for some reason I can't stop typing...
It's funny, I've never talked so much in life as I've typed. I've always found it excruciating talking to people. Don't ask why, it's just something programmed deep into my cerebral cortex, whatever messed up part of my head that is.
Transatlanticism, I play this song so loud, because it's like I'm plugging the speakers into my arteries and still the world isn't listening. There are so many life changing songs out there, they're all taking their toll on me.
Do you ever want to scream your head off for no reason? Sometimes I want to because if I don't stop screaming I won't start crying.
I feel so pathetic right now, so useless, so worthless, so meaningless. Am I supposed to at my age? Is there something wrong with me?
I am desperate to just string a sentance together that means ANYTHING...
I'm writing a book. Or, trying to. I know it sounds ridiculous being only 13 and I'm trying to write a book.
Anyways, I wrote something today, and I just think it rings true to what I'm feeling:
"I try to tell myself that others are worse off. Others ARE worse off. But then it's night, and I'm all alone, and the darkness begins to suffocate. I begin to drink it in, it fills my lungs, slips into my eye sockets, floods my vains, pours into my mind, I'm entirely consumed.
And it's so much easier to feel sorry for yourself in the dark."
Damn, this insomnia just won't quit.
Goodnight.
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