*sighs* The suicide attempt didn't fly too well. >.< Damn people and their emotions! *bawls, cuddles into a fleece blankey, and sniffles* You can all rot in hell.

I need a vacation. So, I'm gonna take my car and anyone else who'll come with me and go driving on the 2,3,4 gallons of gas I have left in the tank. I'm at empty, according to the little meter thing. So I'm gonna have to be really careful.

I'm freezing my ass off! I'm in the shop, because the computer in the porch is being an ass, and my fingers are going numb. I'll be on, more than likely, tomorrow. Ciao.

I have a few last minute things I need to take care of before I go. This might be a long list, and it might be short. I'm not sure yet. I'm typing as I'm thinking.

When it comes to the materialistic things I may leave behind, I want you to know, my sweet sister, LaCinda Marie, that you can't have my Narnia box set. >.< That's going to the school library, because they don't have any of the books, the poor fools.

Mikhail, oh, stupid younger brother, I know you like to draw, so you can have my sketch pad. You might have to take out my self portrait, though, because I'm not sure if I left it in there or not.

Christopher Mark, the oldest, but not the wisest, of my brothers, you can have the rainbow sticker I was going to put on your car the other day or so. It'll suit your purple car very nicely. lol

Dustin Robert Shimko, the ass to beat all asses in life, you recieve nothing more than this; BITE MY ASS, YOU UNGRATEFUL BASTARD!

Justin Tweet, the boy who meant everything to me, and yet stole my heart and my sanity, you left your handcuffs under my mattress. You'll probably want those for your next victim.

Erika Strandlund, sweetheart, if you want, my blood red nail polish I stole from Twitch is yours. And my spiked choker, because I saw you staring at it the first day I wore it to school. I knew you wanted it.

Samantha Carlson, to you I give all my Dianna Wynne Jones books. You still have my Chronicles of Chrestomanci, Vol. 2, somewhere in your room, and I've yet to get it back, so you might as well take the others. I would suggest you read Dark Lord of Derkholm, though. Oh, and Howl's Moving Castle.

Lindsey Nelson, my Inuyasha RPG game is yours, along with the IY patch on my backpack and the IY and Kags piccy sitting in my locker. But the pic on my wall stays where it is, for now.

Katie Haynes, my neighbor, you can have whatever Lego pieces I still happen to have harbored away in my closet. I don't know exactly where they are, but you can have them once they're found.

Jenny Haynes, you were like a sister to me when we were younger. Now we've grown apart. Any and all pictures of us are yours. I promise.

Mary Johnson, Chantal's sister and my good friend, my large sweatshirts go to you. I won't need them anymore.

Chantal... Bite my ass.

Mr. Lee Orvik, who was, is, and always shall be my favorite English teacher... Give my tennis racket (I don't care if I have the correct spelling or not) to your little girl. She'll use it some day.

Mrs. Donna Ferber... I really did like your class, but, as I've said a million times, history does nothing for me.

Miranda Baldwin, my little chickadee, the big blue tub by the head of my bed is full of stamps and inks. Go ahead and help yourself.

Cassie, the Jack and Sally zipper hoodie I noticed you liked is yours.

Dana Murray, please, please and DOUBLE please, TAKE THE DAMN PANTS! The ones you wear make your ass look SO FRIGGIN' HUGE!!! >.<

Amanda Saxton, sugabee, you can have my Seussical CD, my Wicked CD, and my Aida CD. That'll help you start your collection, and I hope you let it grow bigger than Mr. Knudsvig's.

Kyle.... *sighs* Ah hell, now I have to think what I'll leave you... You know that red notebook I've been carrying around recently? The one with a bunch of random writings on the cover, where none of it can be read because it's all overlapping? Letters I've written but haven't had the heart to sent are in there, along with a few little freeverses and poems that were especially for you. Take them and do with them as you please. I dont' care anymore. Also, my Strength and Courage books are yours, and my Seether CD, only because I don't want my mom getting a hold of it.

Oh, and one more thing for you, hun.

In my little jewelry box, the pink and purple one that is full of dust, and sitting carefully on top of my tall dresser, is a little silver cross with seven Cubic Zerconium or whatever jewels and a little cut piece of Red Garnet, my birthstone. It's a very pretty little necklace, and I thought you might like it, even though you're a June child and Garnet isn't June's stone. I think it's pearl, or something like that. And if you don't want it, that's okay, you can give it to Amanda. We share the same birthstone. She'd love it.


I love you all, and if you were to read this, know me, and aren't mentioned, then you can have a pick of anything else in my room or of my posession that your heart desires. I won't need it anymore.

(The rainbow tie goes to Chris, though, because it'll match the rainbow sticker. xD)

*yawns* I didn't sleep last night... So if I start to babble... it's not my fault.

Today is turning into crap, and yesterday sucked worse. That teacher meeting was horrible... Damn teachers, I ended up crying. Ah well, whatever, I can't do anything about it now. So, this morning I had to be in the art room to work on this ring... Which I finished in Jewelry, along with my wire ring... And I didn't get to see anybody this morning. *shrugs* Ah well, I kinda lost my voice, so it doesn't really matter. I don't want to talk to anyone right now, anyway. -_- I have a cough, a sinus infection, a sore throat, and a headache, my back is killing me, my chest hurts, and I keep crying for no reason... It's really irritating.

I need to get going. I have other things I have to do, and I don't really feel like saying too much right now... I'm kind of in a funk.... Like... Like I could walk in front of a school bus after school and just stand there while it runs me over. And I wouldn't give a shit. Nope, not at all. Hmm... That's not a bad idea... Either that or I'll just jump off the stupid bridge that leads into Cambridge... It's not like anyone's gonna miss me if I'm gone. I mean, seriously, who would miss me? Me, of all the people out there? Not Dana, not Amanda, not Cassie, Erika, my family, not Kyle... I don't think any of them would really, truthfully, honestly give a damn if, one day, I just didn't show up. I dissapeared. I could do it, if I wanted to. It's not hard to make a transparent person become thin air. And that's what I am. Invisible. -_- It's a wonder anyone even cares about me...

Okay, I know I've been gone for a while, but that's because my modem is a piece of shit and I have to reassemble it. My brother took it apart.... T_T

I feel like just going home and hiding in my closet. I don't want to be here.... Everything is just falling apart, and the one person I truly care about... I'm not sure what he feels anymore, and it's really bothering me... Because I really do love him.

I have nothing more to really say, and I don't feel like being here right now... So I'm gonna go. Ciao.

*yawns and sighs* I've honestly done nothing more than sleep... All day long... Since I got home last night, at about 11. And I woke up at around 4 or so, so yeah, that's like... 17 whole hours of sleep. o.o Scurreh...

I really want to talk to someone. I've been so quiet lately, I haven't really said a word to anyone... And yesterday was the all day rehearsal for the school musical. My friends kept trying to get me to talk... And I was like "...", which pissed them off right bad. Ho boi, I was worried they were gonna start attacking! O.O

*sighs* I've got a headache, I'm still sleepy (Weird, huh?), and my mom wants me off the internet. So I'm gonna head out.

(~~(Kyle, hun, I hope you're feeling better. You seem down, sugar. Please be happy.)~~)

*sighs* I've been bombarded with about a million questions, and am ready to blow this entire city to smithereens. >.< I'll do it, one of these days...

The most common one; "Where were you yesterday?"

I was tired, so I stayed home.

"I tried to call you, hun, but there was no answer."

I didn't want to talk.

"Why do you look sad?"

.< Damn, man, you're worse than the hospital lady!

"I heard you were in the hospital! What happened???"

I heard you had a brain between your ears. What happened???

"Someone told me you've been cutting. What's up?"

Will you just leave me the hell alone?

"Monika, why won't you talk to me?"

Friend, person, significant nobody, why won't you take a hint and go away?

So all day long I've been asked stupid questions. I convinced my mom I couldn't hack it, and I got to go home at about noon. I've been home since about 12:10, and I'm ready to die. My back hurts, my neck hurts, I'm getting a migraine, and I've got so much stress I could flop over now and not have the ability to get up.

The worst comment I've had....

"Monika, I know what's up."

I was like,

..... What the fuck? O.o

"I know you're depressed."

To hell you do, why don't you walk away like every other smart person?

"You can talk to me, you know."

No, I can't, but you seem to think otherwise. Now skeedaddle. Shoo fly. Jeeze.

"If you don't talk to me, I'll ask Kyle."

Ah fuck.... Here we go... *sighs* Look, hun. Kyle doesn't know about anything that happened within the last two days. I don't think he would want to know, and even if he did, I probably would only tell him the gist, making a long story short. He doesn't need to know. He has his own problems, and I don't want him worrying about mine. Now, get the hell away from me before I decide to whip out a can of whoop-ass on you. Go.

And she left. And I flopped onto the floor, right then and there. It was lovely, really it was, to hit my head on the cold ground. To see some random teacher standing over me, holding up three fingers and asking me how many she was holding up. "Three, goddammit..." To be carried by some random football player to the nurse's, and then chewing his ass out because his hand "slipped". Slipped my ass, you did that on purpose. Luckily for me, there was only about five people in the hallway, so no one knows that this happened.

*sighs* My fingers are going numb, so I should probably jump offline for a while and go play guitar. I have the urge.... No, the need, to play American Pie. ;D Heh. Ciao.

Oh my god... I've had the worst day of my life..... o.o

I was officially admitted to Mercy General Hospital at about.... 10:45 a.m. this morning. As a patient in the psychiatric ward... And it was scary.

As of late I've had a cutting issue. It isn't bad... At least, I don't think it's bad... And I haven't cut in like, four days, three, something like that. Well, my mom saw them, and she now officially believes I'm clinically insane. *shrugs* Whatever, Mom, you're the crazy one.

So anyways, I was placed in a hospital. And it was scary. I don't like hospitals, they give me the creeps. Full of sick people.... Ugh!

It was really bad. They made me strip everything, to make sure I wasn't hiding anything.... And if it weren't for the fact I requested I keep my socks and my under garments, I woulda gone totally G.I. Jane. Which is totally gross.

I've been poked, prodded, asked a million intimate questions, and basically evaluated. And I didn't like a minute of it. At one point, I was so scared I would be stuck there, I cried.

According to the lady who did the evaluating, I'm not crazy enough to stay at the hospital, but they do suggest I get on some anti-depressants a.s.a.p. And I was like, "Okay, whatever, as long as I'm out of here." My dad was happy, because he didn't want to see me suffer in there. He's not too happy with my mom for trying to stick me in the loony bin. >.<

So, I'm home, and I'm typing here, and I've never been happier. I'M NOT A LOONY!!! >D

I am so glad that nobody reads this. I know nobody reads this. Who would care what I think, anyway? It's only me. I'm surprised... No, shocked, when people ask me what I think. It's like, Why should you care? It's not like my opinion will impact you any. So why do you ask?

You know what I hate the most? When people say "I know how you feel." No, you don't know how I feel. You can understand, you can give me your sympathy, you can shower me in "Aw, that's too bad" statements, but you don't know how I feel. No one does. And I like it that way.

My mom asks me, "How would you feel about seeing Dr. Marc again?" Marc was my therapist. How do I feel? Well, for one, I can't stand people like him. I don't like being asked questions about how I feel about anything. I don't like feeling anything about a subject. I just don't. And I don't want to talk. Lately she's been complaining about my attitude problem, and she seems to think she knows me. That whenever I have this attitude problem, something's up. Yes, something's up, but it doesn't mean I have to say what that something is, do I? No. And I don't want to. You can't make me talk, you can't make me nod or shake my head at stupid questions, you can't make me share my thoughts. No. So why do you try? Because, apparently, someone's concerned. Get over it. Get over yourself and your little pity issues. I don't have time for it. I just want to sit and think. I like thinking. It's not a crime to want to think.

I told my mom that she tries to be perfect too much, and it really ticked her off. Well, she does. Messes irk her, things that aren't "normal" irk her, I irk her. I'm not "normal" to her. And when I go off on my thoughts of what "normal" are, she gets angry. Oh, so now I can't state the truth, huh, mom? I can't tell you what I think about "normality" and the fact that it's different for everyone? Obviously not, because she'll scream at me for saying that "normal" differs from person to person. She hates it when I correct her, even when she's wrong. Well, if you're wrong, you deserve to be corrected. You brought it upon yourself. Get over it. You're not gonna die.

I have nothing more to rant about, and I have other things I have to take care of, so I guess I'll just have to post tomorrow... Tomorrow's in a minute, so I'll say I'll post in the afternoon. Ciao.

Ugh.. I'm so angry right now! I can't believe he doesn't trust me! That bastard! And I've been there for him through so much. No, he has the balls to go and tell me that he doesn't trust me. Oh, let me guess; he trusts Erika Stranlund, but not me, right? I wish he would see that she's going to end up hurting him in the end... She does it with any boy. >> Hell, Riley's still like, getting through the after shock, and that one's been several years. T_T He just doesn't understand anything.

I know Erika. I've known her since 5th grade, and it's been about 7 years. He's known her for a couple of months, and though he is a complete chick magnet, both figuratively and literally (I swear, there's always at least three girls swooning over him every second, and it makes me laugh.), he's going for her. I mean, I'm not jealous, if they want to have a horrible relationship, because that's what's going to happen, then good for them. There's nothing I can do about it.

Erika is a very demanding person. She's very needy, clingy, and it irritates me. I wasn't aware he was into those kinds of girls, but whatever floats his boat... This'll probably sink it and consume him, but it's what he wants. I can't stop him, I can't hold him back, I can't do any of that. I'm not his mother. He doesn't even really listen to his mother. But, again, whatever.

It's just irritating. I know I've only known him a little longer than Erika, not much longer, but I know him more. I may not know everything, or understand everything, and I won't die from that. It's okay. He doesn't know everything about me, or completely understands me. If he doesn't trust me, maybe I shouldn't trust him as much as I do. Make things even.

My heart aches right now. Thinking about pushing him away makes it hurt. I don't want to do that to anybody, really I don't, but if that's what it takes to get a point across, I'm willing and able to do it. He hurt my feelings. There's nothing anyone can do to repair the damage. Not him, not me, not anyone else. No one. And, though that's sad, it's the way things are. I'll survive. I always have, I always will.

*sighs* What bugs me the most is, if I were to die tomorrow, he would probably say, "Oh, that's too bad," and move on. He doesn't care. At least, from the vibes I've been getting off the guy, he doesn't appear to care. Although the stunt he pulled last night was a little irksome.

Last night was Halloween, and I went into town to hang out with him, Erika, Miranda, and a few other kids. It was entertaining, for a while, but they got annoying really quickly. So the four of us split off from the group. We went to the city park, where I could go and have a cigarette. I haven't had one in a while, so I was a little antsy. I light up, and he looks over at me, "You know cigarettes aren't good for you."

I know, but what do you care? You don't care.

He just sort of shrugged, like he was going to say, "Yeah, but I can still be nice and say something sentimental." >.< Ugh! I hate it when people are like that! It really, seroiusly irks me! *tackles something random... her computer* Damn it!

I'm sorry, I'm just really kind of pissed right now. I just can't believe him.... *pauses* Wait.... Do we even know who I'm talking about???

A letter to Miranda.



To take your life away doesn't relinquish the pain. For one, if you're christian and believe this, you'll be sending yourself to hell. OOooOOooOOH! Warm scary place!!! xD I've found my sense of humor. It was sitting under my bed, with a few dead lighters and my scandinavian joke book. Heh. My only thing with you is you need to be more confident in your actions, your thoughts, your existence. I know that it's probably hard for you. Hell, it's hard for a lot of people. Though we are all like whispers in the winds and sands of time, each whisper tells a story, every grain has a song. My song is rather long and elaborate, full of twists and turns, with hints of dirges and mournful melodies. Your song is sad and lonely, in need of a little warmth and tenderness... Maybe a hot cup of mocha. I would go into Kyle's song, but I'm not sure what adjectives I would use for him. >> Probably thoughtful, pensive, a soliloquy (Fuck the spelling, I don't wanna get the dictionary.). Almost like a funeral hymn, minus the death part. Every person has a story. Every grain has a song. And though you might not think your song matters, though it may be quiet and hidden under the melodies and harmonies of the universe, it can still be heard..... Unless you've got those really, really low notes that the human ear can't detect... *shrugs* Then you're screwed. lol Yeah, my humor's all here, every last ounce. Damn my humor.

If sliced bread and toaster ovens hadn't been invented, you two would be the wonders of my world. But since they have, you're kind of stuck at number 3... I have a thing for warm, toasty goodness-things. *sweatdrops* Eh... Anyway, I understand when you say, in short and laymen's terms, we are your rock. Hell, sugabee, you two are mine, and we are probably his. Yay! A triange! o.o Pointy... *pokes a corner of the triangle and pricks her finger* Ow! >.< Dammit, that hurt, you sunnovabitch! *kicks the triangle to the other side of the room* Stupid triange... pointy corners... Damn you. Wait, what? xD

I suppose, when it all boils down to simmering water, that you are right. We are a lot the same, you, me, him. We all have our issues, though they differ, our problems, our choices and the consequences for them. I don't know yours, I've never thought to ask in case you didn't want to share. Mine, I chose to hide everything I've felt, every pain I've suffered, every love lost, friend forgotten, enemy aquired. i've been doing this since I was two. An I choose to blind people of how I really feel, what I think, the meaning to what I say, the reason for my actions. I probably will keep it that way until I can understand them myself. My consequence is I can't empty my neverending bottle of sorrows, share my bottomless pit of thoughts. They accumulate, they grow on my shoulders, and they hurt like a bitch when the day's done. >> You try carrying all that junk, along with your backpack full of books, and see how your neck and shoulders feel. I haven't found the right person to "spill my guts" to, that one special individual whom I can say, without a doubt, that I love and would want to spend the rest of my days with. When I do, a lot of this pain, this agony, will vanish. I'll throw it away. But until then, I will bear my burdens alone, letting out the few that are small and meak, sharing those with the ones I care about, you and Kyle. Don't take this as an offensive remark. There are so many large problems I have, that if I were to tell either of you two, I'd be afraid to ever speak again. I would probably bury myself in my shell, with no hope of ever escaping its clutches, its walls, my solitude.

The space I have from the world, the miles I've put between me and it, I like it that way. I don't want to be close, for fear of breaking. Wait, what am I saying? I've been broken for such a long time, it's not even funny. I know you want to help, sweet Miranda, but there isn't anything you could do except for be there. Just standing there would be a little bit of comfort. That's my only downfall; I enjoy company in comparison to solitude, though I can deal with that. Being alone is a slight fear I will probably never shed, along with the ever growing phobia of the dark. Don't move. Don't run, don't hide, don't move. I'll be fine. I promise.

See you in the morning sugabee, sweetie, hunny bunches of oats, corn flakes, rice crispies, cap'n crunch, cheerie-o's, bumble bee, chickadee, dinobabe, versatile Miranda.

Monika

I was supposed to go to set construction. I told all my friends I would go to set construction. I promised Dana, Amanda, Cassie that I'd go to set construction.

I didn't go.

I told Mr. Danielson I would see what I could do about carpooling everyone to Braham for their production of Phantom. I was supposed to drive Manashi, Tom, Cassie, and Dana to Phantom. I said I would help drop some of the kids home after Phantom.

I didn't go.

I lied to my mom, said I went to construction. I told her Amanda came and picked me up. Said that she came when Dad was vaccuuming up the leaves in the back yard, and only stayed for an hour. That I just didn't feel like going to Phantom, but that I honestly got to set construction.

I didn't go.

Why? Heh... Here we go...

This little thing, this row, this arguement, conversation, dissagreement, the talk I had last night. I've been so broken. For one thing, I was denied. I was denied access. I was denied access into my friend's life. I was denied the chance to help. Shoved away like a discarded piece of trash.

Later, the phone rings.

***
Amanda. "Where were you?"

I was sick.

"I thought you were coming."

I was sick.

"But you said you'd come!"

I was sick, dammit.

"No you weren't, no you arent. What's wrong?"

I hung up.

***
Dana. "Hey, you were supposed to drive me to Phantom."

Sorry.

"What's wrong? You sound sad."

I'm sick.

"Really? Why didn't you call?"

I couldn't.

"Why?"

I can't talk.

"Obvoiusly. You're usually the talker in conversations, and all you give me are petty one liners. Something's up."

...

"You don't want to tell me?"

... No...

"*sighs* Alright then. Mr. D. wasn't very happy, hun."

...

"*sighs again* I'll talk to you later."

I hung up.

***
Mr. Danielson, the head drama director. "Monika, you were supposed to come to set construction. Where were you?"

I got sick.

"*pauses* You don't sound sick."

I'm sick, sir.

"With what?"

A heart break.

"*sounds slightly flustered (He's not good with that kind of response.)* Um, well then, why didn't you um, call?"

I can't talk.

"But you're talking right now."

I can't talk.

"Something really bad happened, huh?"

... You could say that...

"Does this have to do with your boyfriend?"

I don't have one.

"But Thomas said..."

Tom lied.

"And so did Manashi, and Anna, huh?"

Yes. It's a rumor. Nothing more.

"But I thought I saw you two in the halls."

We aren't dating.

"But you were holding hands."

We aren't dating.

"So holding hands has become a friend thing?"

With us.

"I see. Well, you were supposed to drive some kids to Phantom. And I'm a little dissapointed, but if it was that bad, I can understand."

... Thank you.

"I'll see you on Monday, Monika."

Bye, Mr. Danielson.

I hung up.

*** One last phone call came a little bit ago.

My sister. "Monika Rose Shimko, you explain to me right now what is wrong with you. I'm getting a ton of texts that you were missing from your little... What was it, set contsruction thingy. And Dana texted, saying you were upset. It's not like you to miss something like this, young lady."

You're only two years older than me, if that.

"Shut up! That's not the point! Something's eating at you, and I want to know what's up. Now spill, before I have to walk across the street and beat you up!"

...

"I'll do it!"

...

"Gah! Monika, tell me what's up!!!"

... I can't.

"You can't what?"

I can't talk.

"And why not???"

I just can't.

"*long pause* You broke, didn't you?"

You could say that.

"Do you want me to come over?"

No.

"Do you need some chocolate?"

... Tempting, but no.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

You said it. I'm broken.

"But what broke you?"

Whom.

"Don't you mean who?"

No, whom. English.

"Dammit, I'm bad at English. Okay, who broke you?"

My friend.

"It isn't that boy you're dating, is it?"

I'm not dating anyone.

"But everyone says..."

I'm not.

"Oh, so if I asked him, he'd tell me the same thing?"

Yes.

"Well, who is he? I'll ask him."

You don't know him.

"What grade is he in?"

Senior. New. You don't know him.

"Oh, is he that guy everyone is saying tried to rape Holly Keanne or whatever the hell her last name is?"

Yeah.

"Ew. You should stay away from him."

It isn't true.

"How do you know it isn't?"

How do you know it is?

"... Good point... it's Holly, after all..."

There we go.

"But what about Lindsey Cahoole or whatever?"

There are cameras in the library. Until I have concrete evidence he did anything to her, it's bullshit to me.

"Hmm... another good point... So, what'd he do?"

Yelled.

"Yelled? As in, at you?"

Sort of.

"About...?"

...

"What did he yell about?"

It's the right thing to do.

"What is?"

Helping others when you need help yourself. He yelled.

"*pauses* Wait... Helping others when you need help yourself? No, you shouldn't do that, it'll hurt you worse in the long run."

That's what I said.

"So why'd he yell?"

Because he thinks it's the right thing to do.

"Oh. I see. And you said it wasn't, so he yelled."

Yeah.

"So you're pretty shaken up."

Mmhmm.
(this convo's rather long...)
"Well, what were you talking about?"

A problem he has.

"What is it?"

I can't tell you.

"Bad?"

I can't tell you.

"Really bad, huh?"

I can't tell you.

"Wow, it's that bad, huh? Well then, what're you going to do about it?"

... Nothing.

"*pauses* Nothing? Monika Shimko do nothing? Ha. You're funny."

I'm serious.

"And I'm the easter bunny."

Nice to meet you.

"Wow, you didn't even laugh... You are seroius. You're going to do nothing? You aren't going to try and help him?"

When I help him, I get shoved back. He doesn't want my help.

"Hmm..."

He's helped me so much lately, but when I try to return the favor, I get yelled at.

"Maybe you should just stop hanging out with him?"

Abandon him?

"Yeah. He sounds like a jackass. What kind of a guy would do that to someone? I don't care if guys think help is a sign of weakness, it's rude to do that to anyone. Especially my sister. I should kick his ass, the bastard. He broke my sister, he's going to pay. Seriously, you should just ditch him. A guy like that isn't worth your time. *pauses* Monika? Hello, are you there? Monika?"

*breathing really deeply*

"Are you crying over that asshole??? Goddammit, girl, get over him! He's a caniving, inconsiderate loser! Pull yourself together!"

N-no.

"... What?"

I-I s-s-s-said n-no.

"No???"

H-he's not like th-that. H-he's n-not a jackass, a b-bastard, a-an asshole, none of th-that. He's n-not incons-siderate, mean, a l-loser, no.

"..."

He's kind, and caring, and just, and honest. He's sweet, he listens, and he holds me when I cry. He's understanding. He's thoughtful. He means a lot to me. He's my rock.

"But he broke you."

I've been broken for a long time, LaCinda. A very long time. You know that. He's trying to help me fix myself. And although he's also broken, he's probably going to keep on trying. And I'm going to try to mend his wounds, tend for his soul, care for his being, love the self he adamantly hates. I'm going to try to save him from the hell he's placing himself in. And if I can't do that, at least I'm going to try and protect him from the fall. From his pain. If I can ease it, if only a little, I'll do it. I will. And no one can stop me. Not you, not Mom, not anybody. I refuse to believe he can't be saved. Everyone can be saved. Even those who refuse to accept redemption, forgiveness, love.

"..."

You can say anything you want. You can tell me I'm an idiot, a fool, the stupidest whore on the face of the earth. I can deal with it. But you can't deter me from the choice I've made.

"*long pause, sighs* That was a noteworthy speech. I'm sorry."

Don't be. You didn't know, you don't know, and you probably never will know.

"..."

Goodbye, LaCinda. I'll talk to you some other time.

"... bye..."

She hung up.

... Now you know, my sweet sister, a little of the pain I've been dealing with.

I hung up.

***

*sniffles* I can't stop crying. And when I do stop, I'm crying on the inside. It's like my little person, the little girl who hides herself from the world and uses me as a shield, a mask, is so heart broken that her sobs reverberate through me and cause me pain. One of these days I'm going to have to kick her out...

Last night's conversation is really bothering me. I sent Kyle a letter with my appologies, because I was a total bitch to him and I didn't listen when he told me to back off. But how could I? What would you've done? He's in so much pain, so much agony, that he's falling apart. And it hurts me to watch this happen to him. He's such a good guy, I don't want to see him like that. I mean, I can handle it, but it stings. It really stings.

I don't know what to do anymore. I try to help, and I get squished like a bug. When I don't help, things just get worse. No matter what I do, something bad happens. Why? Why do I always fail? I can't accomplish anything anymore. What's the point, God? You're doing this to me for a good laugh, aren't you? It's like a reality show to you. Stupid Girl Who Hurts Everyone. Right? *sighs*

I can't deal with this right now. If I do, I'm going to destroy myself, I know it. *sighs again* I'm thirsty. Good bye.

AAAAAAAAAAAH!!! I'M SO MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! >.<

I got into a fight with Kyle. He's the one who suggested I register to this site. Well, okay, it wasn't really a fight, it was more of a heated debate. There really wasn't much arguing.

Lately he's been really down. I've noticed. I don't think he appreciates the fact that I notice those kinds of things and that I'm here to listen. Hell, for all I cared, he could use me as a friggin' human punching bag, and I wouldn't mind, as long as he was feeling better. But anyways...

He had told me what was up. It's a little personal, so I'm not going to say what it is for his own privacy. I'm nice. But again, I'm here. I want to help. I WANT TO HELP YOU, DAMMIT!!! >.< Gah! Why can't he understand that??? He has such a weight on his shoulders, a burden he refuses to let anyone help him carry. I'm not weak, hun. I can help you, if you'd just give me the chance. But no, he didn't accept my offer, and that got me a little riled up. I'm sick of being left on the doorstep. I knock, and knock, and the door opens, but I can't get inside. Why does he do this to himself? These problems will fester, and eventually kill him. I know it. He knows it. And yet he refuses help. My help. And that bothers me.

I offer you my hand, and you slap it away. I extend my arms to you, and you shove me onto the ground like I'm nothing. I love you, hun, and the only thing I get in return is silence and shakes of your head. Why can't you understand that I care about you? I care for you. So what if my own life is in shambles? I can clean up after myself. Let me share your burden, your pain.

I don't ask for much. Normally the only thing I ask for is a willing ear to listen and pickles from the lunch line. So why, for this one tiny request, can't you respond with the tenderness I know is there? The compassion, the feelings, the love? I KNOW it's there. I've seen it on rare occasion, and it makes me so sad that you would bottle it up and hide it from the world. Love is a gift. You don't have to give it away, but when you chose to, it makes people happy. You tell me I should work on making myself happy. Well, the only thing that would make me the happiest woman on the face of the earth would be knowing you care back. That I'm not the only one trying to help.

Help. It's basically all you do, for everyone else but yourself. You don't worry about yourself, only others. A noble cause indeed, but in the end, noble causes get you nowhere.

I understand that you're going through a rough time. I understand your pain, your sorrow. When you say your mind is not your own, your heart belongs to the woman you loved but won't see, I get it. Okay. You love her, and that's all right. It's not a crime, you don't have to hide it.

Please, please, Kyle, why can't you get that I'm not just another person you can pull around on a leash? I don't want to walk behind you, or in front of you with complete control over your every waking moments, but I want to walk BESIDE you. NEXT TO you. It's like the song.

Lean on me
When you're not strong,
And I'll be your friend.
I'll help you carry on.
For it won't be long
Until I'm going to need
Somebody to lean on.

*yawns* Hmm... A journal, eh? Well, I have nothing better to do at the moment, I might as well shove a post in here, to keep me from just running out the door and never coming back, if only for a few minutes delay.

I haven't slept in two days, had a decent night's sleep in over a week, and I keep having this reoccurring nightmare that's rotting my little bubble to the core. I swear, if this keeps up, I don't know what I plan to do. Heh, I just might follow through with the little voice in my head's words of infinite wisdom and take a friggin' shotgun to my head. *shrugs dispassionately* Not like anyone would cry over me. Who cries over spilt milk?

Boredom is threatening to overpower me. There is absolutely nothing to do in my house, unless I want to watch T.V. or freeze my ass off on the dirt bike... And I really don't wanna freeze my ass off... *turns her head so she can see her backside* I kind of like it where it is. I mean, if I had no ass, how would I sit down? How would I flop onto a sofa and play vidoe games for hours on end? o.o How would I fit into a pair of pants???

That's why I hate fashion. All these clothes are made for these skinny chicks with great butts and fantastic breasts. They obviously didn't open their eyes very wide when the designers went and created their "masterpieces". Who, honestly, is THAT skinny??? T_T And because most companies don't consider that some ladies might be short and overweight, I get screwed. Damn them! I am NOT a size 8! I need longer legs for that. Thank god for JC Penny, though, and their girls' plus sizes. ^^ Makes me feel small, to go shopping in there. Although most of the jeans are like, full of sparklies and pink butterflies and flowers and other junk that would make me puke my brains out, I have my moments of glory in finding a pair that work wonderfully. 14 1/2-16 1/2! That's me! >D

You know what else? It's really hard to find a decent top nowadays. I went shopping with my mom, and she grabs this "adorable" little shirt she thought was cute. But, when she holds it up to my putrid form, lo and behold the neck line swoops so low that if I was to bend over, I swear to you that the girls would pop out and wave hello to everyone. I don't want that kind of attention. I would rather be stuck in a frumpy sweater than to go around in something like that. Bleh. :P Ickeh.

Lately I've been having an issue with optimism. >> Mine went AWOL. It's gone. Probably not forever, but as of now, there's a very, very, VERY slim chance it'll ever decide to return to me like the good little puppy dog I wish it was. Here, Optimism, c'm'ere, boy! Here puppy puppy puppy! Who's a good puppy? Come to Monnie, puppy! *sighs* Yeah, right. It's more of a runaway pet gerbel. Slim to none chance that it even survived the first five minutes of being outside in this weather, it's so cold out right now. *shivers*

Anyway, I can't cheer up. I mean, sure, I have my subtle moments of euphoria, rare in occurence, but otherwise I'm just acting. Pretending I'm happy. And it usually works. My school is a very large jumble of moronic bodies with everything on their minds EXCEPT school, unless they're the total school nerds and would pay big money to spend their entire lives in educational institutions. Ho yeah, big nerds. Don't get me wrong, it sounds interesting, as long as it was an art institute. Then I'd be happy. Well, for a little while, anyway.

My only little escapes have been shattered, due to the fact that my mother works in the school and can find out anything and everything she wants to know about anyone. It's scary how she does that sometimes... o.o If I had my license, my car, and my keys, I wouldn't even bother coming to school. I'd call myself in sick, steal my friend Kyle, and drive off somewhere. Anywhere but Cambridge. Maybe Duluth, for a change in scenery. Or, even better, how about all the way to Arizona, where it isn't constantly cold and my fingers feel like they're gonna fall off every few minutes they're not hidden in my sleeves. I like Arizona. Lots of desert, lots of sun, lots of warmth, and no one knows me there. I could start life all over, if only I could move down there and change my name. Lauren would be nice, or maybe Kari. My cousin's name's Kari, though we all call her Karly. No one notices. And I would take up my mom's maiden name. Jones. >D No way in HELL they could ever find me if I did that!!! Do you know how many Jones there are in the world? A lot. I could so blend in, if I continue to act normal. A stretch, but I've been doing it for the last 13 years of my life, when I first realized I wasn't like everyone else. Ho yeah, I was a smart-ass little two-year-old. I had like, no friends except my neighbor, who is my unofficial sister. That's how pathetic I was, and that's when my little bag of peppy happy goodness dissapeared from under my bed and was never seen again.

I don't really have anything mroe to write, and I'm getting a head ache from the lack of sleep that's been accumulating on my shoulders. If only I could sleep... And not wake up crying and screaming. What's worse is that lately, I've been biting my lip when I do doze off for a minute or two, and wake up to the metalic taste of blood on my tongue, and a slight cold river flowing down my chin. Oh yeah, what a great sensation to wake up to. The first thought you get is that you're drooling and you look like a dope, until you get up and look at the mirror sitting across the room and see the crimson waves wash your face in a sea of red darkness. Lovely. -.-

So, I'm going to go. I want to set up all the other stupid things I can with this site. Thank you, Kyle, for giving me the URL to Elftown and convincng me I should register. Thank you, thank you, oh, so much. >.< Darn you and your skinny behind! >O