A savage desire
for strong emotions and sensations burns inside me: a
rage against this
soft-tinted, shallow, standardized and
sterilized life, and a mad craving to smash something
up, a department store, say, or a cathedral, or myself.
I miss the old
sadness. I miss the cries of breaking a leg. I miss the
feeling of not getting what you want,
the feeling of fighting with a friend, with a sibling. I
miss that sadness because this sadness, this
grief, makes everything
else feel small. I don’t know those feelings
anymore because the feeling of the loss of someone
you love…it’s unlike any sadness
I’ve felt before. I don’t want this
sadness, this sorrow. I miss the old
sadness.
It almost feels like a joke to play out the part when you are
not the starring role in someone else's heart. You know
I'd rather walk alone than play a supporting role if I
can't get the starring role.
I'm
so
fuc//king
weird
it's
like:
I'm
the
nicest
rude
person
you'll
ever
meet.
I
don't
give
a
fu//ck
about
anything
but
at
the
same
time,
I
care
about
a
lot.
I
hate
people
but
I
develop
crushes
easily.
I
hate
myself
but
I'm
completely
fabulous.
I
need
help.