CENTER"We are the youth and we are knocking on Death's Door...BR
What makes you think we want to live in a world where our
innocence is so short?"
-SilverchairIDear Diary...BR
Tears well behind sage-green eyes, building a reservoir of
painful pressure. They must not fall. Only the weak and
pitiable allow saline streams to flow. I cannot join those of pitiful stature.BR

I lay my head upon folded arms on my desktop and sqeeze pallid lids together. Just let me die. My one unspoken wish.BR

I often wonder if drawing sufficient blood from my veins to pass from this consciousness into the void would serve as suiting punishment to those who flay my inner being into insignificant shreds of nothingness. How am I supposed to solidify who I am, if you cannot permit me to find out for myself just what sort of person I am meant to be? I thought I was the only one who could dictate such things. You deny me that basic right.BR

Should I do this, I would never see them receive their turn to suffer, if my means procured the intended ends. There is always the option of inflicting enough self-damage as to come to the brink of death. I fear the consequences of this more than I believe I fear the death of my other alternative. My parents would be angry, not sympathetic, loving, supportive. I need to get away from them. There are only two times happiness can find me - in the blessed 'dead of night' or when my parents and I are as far away from each other as possible. I don't want to end up in an asylum, yet I know my arrival there is
imminant if I don't escape soon. I'm afraid of being taken from school and my friends, who are already struggling with enough now that Saga has cancer. I don't know that I am strong enough to take it. Why can't I just get out?
You always tell me I'm 'normal'. That is a vulgar and
offensive term if ever I heard one. What, in today's society, is considered 'normal' is to be talkative, flirty, revealing, dressed in garments procured from Abercrombie & Fitch, American Eagle, Aeropostale, and other such stores. Not Hot Topic, Marshall's, and TJMaxx. It means having perfect bottle-blonde hair and clear blue eyes, acne-free skin, a false vivaciousness and denial of who you truly are to who the group wants you to be. I refuse to sell out just to be accepted as part of the
You say that what I go through, everyone else my age goes
throught. How come the only other teens I know who have
shrinks or suicidal notions I have met online, where everyone really is something like me? You are the only one who makes me wish I could die or disappear entirely.
It just became 2003 a minute or so ago. Why do so many millions of people get so fucking excited about the arbitrary mechanical roll of time? It's just a second, a date, a number.BR
I don't get it. I am not normal. I do not think nor comprehend things in the same manner you do.
So why do you make me feel this way?
Happy Fucking New Year./I