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About Deviant KatFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 4 Years
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It seems like I am stuck in a rut. It is a monotonous thing. I go through my day the same exact way through the whole week. My body likes to understand possibilities. For example, I sucked dick on Wednesday. It was fun but it might just have been out of boredom. I like making people happy. He was really happy to get his dick sucked and I was really happy to have done it.

I feel so drained. I have so much potential and I have so many desires. I shove my desires down my throat and keep them burning in my stomach. It causes me pain because I can't just do what I want. I think of others and put them before me. I am scared of what someone else might think of me and how their view will change once they know. It makes me feel horrible because these people tend to be just my parents or other family members. I want to be myself. I want to express myself but I am terrified to do what I want. I wish that I had more people to tell this too and I wish I had more people that would not judge me. My stomach constantly feels sick. There are so many things that I want but will be judged for doing them.

I threw away the scale that was in my house. I didn't but my mom did. When she did this, it left me feeling naked. I like to lose weight because I think it would make me happier. My body has been hurt because I believed that starving myself would make me happy. Without the scale it feels like I am happier without it but at the same time I feel like it should still be there. I want to weigh myself and analyze the pounds that I think I should be losing. I just feel like it something that I can control and I want more things that I can control. I want my weight to be unhealthy. I want to be skinny. I want all these things and more. Weighing 130 is not good enough. Weighing 120 probably will not be enough. I just want to be happier with myself.

Sometimes I am driven mad because I feel as though I can't decide what I want or what to do. There are millions of options in my head. It has started to cause me anxiety. I like introspection but this introspection might not be good. Sometimes, I feel like my pain erupts into a full blown sickness. There was a time when my breathing stopped and my body hit the floor. I vomited and it was because the stress had snuck under my skin and poisoned my blood. It's feelings like these that make me want to run away. I am not sure where I would go but I feel safest with someone that I know. It disturbs me that I am not even trusted with this thought. There are whispers from authority in my ears and I've been told to go to the neighbor's house when I feel scared. However, I do not trust them and I do not trust these authoritative words anymore.

I feel a bit distraught. I am over stimulated with who I am and who I have become. I am a magnet for good occurrences. There is just the draining dread of how they take away my time. Seeing Tucker is nice but later I feel the remorse of my lost time. It is anxiety this emotion that I feel and it tightens within my chest. It is like the wrong key to lock. A screw that has been tightened to be uncomfortable. I like to talk and be myself. I like to make people smile and have light conversations. I am stressed about school work so I tend to twiddle my thumbs instead of face responsibility. I want to kiss boys instead of write essays and I feel uncomfortable with just being me.  

I don't feel safe. Everything slips beneath me because my thoughts an encompassing all that I do. Every moment is too pure and its over stimulating to try.

I fill my head with positive thoughts and hope for the best. Every day I wake up and it feels like I need to start again. I'm in smart classes full of people with big egos. I'm just unassuming and small. Sometimes, I wish that I could grow and become something strong. I use things to cover me up. I like to run so I seem strong and talk big like I am big. It constantly feels like I cannot breathe. It's a strange feeling because I cry at times when I realize I'm not really doing what I want to.

I rarely write in here anymore. I don't really feel too much because I just use my mind to destroy it. I feel like people try to hide pain in the back of their heads. It's a pretty common phrase but I think my mind has built a whole house from sadness and anxiety. It feels like I want to pull out all the hairs on my body because that is a soothing feeling. My mind is racing because I want to be with other people and I want to stop feeling so lonely. It's weird to finally understand that I enjoy the company of other people.  

I am girl. I don't have any problems with my gender or other people's gender. Sexuality is just dumb. I don't care about race or ethnicity but it bothers me that my family wouldn't like it if I dated a black boy. I'm uncomfortable and quite distressed to understand that there are things that my parents will not accept. My mom does not like my hair and she cannot be happy for me. The things I like are the things that she hates. This cycle or phrase of "I like your hair longer" should be eliminated. People tell me that they would like my confidence but I fail to even see it. Having hair that I like isn't an accomplishment. I don't understand how having short hair makes me gay or makes me more like a boy. I just get very emotional when other people tell me that they do not like it. I understand that it is a preference but my preference is that I like it. My mother is always telling me to grow my hair out and she is things that my nose ring is ugly. I just want her acceptance but I can't seem to come to close to anything that she wants.  

My body is weird and it kind of disgusts me. I've gained a little bit of weight. I can't handle myself or the person in my head. Nothing is matching up. My soul is not connecting with my brain. I say things that I do not mean. People say things that I do not mean to smile at. I am scared and shocked because when I think it brings me sadness. I just want to talk to everyone but I get so anxious and my anxiety brings me this disappointment. I want to bring joy to others without making a fool of myself. I wake up and go to school to see people that I want to talk. There are many girls that I find beautiful. I am tired of trying. It makes me so stressed.

I want to feel what everyone feels. I've beginning that I've misplaced myself. There's no one to stop me. There's only myself. I have to decide what I want in everything. It always hard to just keep my head away from the clouds. When I was younger, everything seemed to be okay. I'm just afraid. All of my friends seem to be getting farther away. They just keep drifting all across the sea. They're getting so far away from me. I knew that I was boring. A person who is uninteresting. I'm just lonely wondering about all the friends I've yet to meet.  

I’ve been feeling weird and anxious. My stomach is doing flips. It’s making me sick. I’m finding that I feel like a first timer. I’m stretching myself out thin. I am trying all new types of things that I don’t need to do. I just want to be the best me. I hate being a first timer. It makes me feel like I get half way into an experience only to find that I can’t figure out how to act. It’s so strange that my brain can’t function as properly as I want it to. It gets scared and lets my thoughts go hollow. Walls have teeth and they feel like they are crushing me. They surround me in a place that I think is safe. I sit but the teeth grind me up, Don’t make me sorry. Come back to me because I don’t want to take happiness with hesitation.

I want to write down everything that I experience because I am scared of forgetting it. I want to be someone that I am not. It feels like I am losing myself within my thoughts. I want to know what is meaningful to me. It's freaking me out.

Mak dropped me off and I was alarmed because she didn't know his house. I took a seat on the curve. A van pulled in through the gated community and a man in car said, "Hey you look a bit too old to be waiting for the bus". he came in on his bike and made me run after him. His house was the one that Mak thought it was. It had a great overgrown tree in the front of it. He brought his bike inside and I followed him. He got comfortable and I took my bra off because fuck that. The house was colorful. We started off playing chess. He beat me at it. I was able to wear his clothes but I put his pants on backwards and didn't notice the whole time. His dog is named Capone. The dog roamed the yard and he played guitar. I laughed because he has guillotine for cigars. I had a banana and he had tangerines. I helped him with his relationship because he had a girlfriend. He told her that he loved her. I could tell that he has many secrets. I already know some because I talked to many different people. I'm a bit alarmed because he has had some girlfriends. He wants to fuck me because he is sexually frustrated. My first time fucking will not be with someone that I am dating. I have put a lot of thought into the fact that virginity is a social thing. People have given it meaning. I can decide what it means to me and he meets my requirements. He's hot and a good person. He showed me that he has a whole music and game room. He has tons of vinyl with good tunes. The music shook the walls. I could feel it and the way the record went round and round was mesmerizing. He showed me his minecraft and I took his no face blanket. I should steal it because spirited away is my favorite movie. We laid in his bed and he showed me his book collection. Inside "Lord of the Flies" was a letter from middle school. I read it an obnoxious voice and he laughed. It felt so nice to be happy. I knocked over his bike and made a hole in the wall. He got chewed out for it but I will give him 20 dollars at least. We had a pillow fight. He hoisted me up on his shoulders and I massaged his head with my breasts. He showed me his favorite sex position. I want to know what it is like.  
I want to be a new person. I get happiness in fleeting moments. My arousal for excitement is too great. I just want to have fun and be happy. It seems like without things to do that I grow scared and nervous. I'm not sure why I close up but it is making me sick. I just wish that I could become water and slip through the cracks of the sidewalk.  It would be great to escape responsibility and just sleep. My bed is a safe place. It keeps me away from the world that wants to eat me up. I got caught doing something that I wasn't supposed to do. It didn't feel good. My mom was mad at me. I can't help but feel ashamed. There is so much to do and experience. I don't want it to slip past me because there is a leash on my neck. Anything that I want should be mine. I just want to spend all my time with him because he is kind. I want friendship and love.

Fuck it. I am so happy because I don't feel so conflicted on being sexual. I enjoy it. I saw the boy again and this time my lie worked out. He beat my ass at chess but I will beat him. I sucked his dick and was excited. Sucking dick makes me happy so I wonder what fucking will be like. I learned more about his life. He fucked around in middle school and attracted girls. I don't think that I ever want to date. I am so comforted by this. I love boys.

I'm worried I won't remember everything that happened since I am in a bit of a mood. Friday, I was able to stay for psych club. It was a good time. I got to participate in the Asch conformity experiment. It's a vision test where confederates give wrong answers to see if the participant will go along with the wrong answer. The tests were good and the people were tricked. My happiness was so vibrant. I get so happy to see people that I love. Oliver was there and Lyn and Amber. They're not good friends but I am so grateful to have them. I can't remember a time where I was really happy. I was depressed for so long in this slump that felt like weights were pulling me down into a psychosis. Reality wasn't making sense and it felt like my body ached to not exist. I am done feeling like I don't deserve things because I am good and deserve happiness. I stayed after psych club with. There is a bubbling fear inside of my stomach and pools behind my heart. It's an icky feeling that blocks my heart from feeling fine. I am writing about happiness because I need it to cheer me up. Summing up Friday is that now I have three new friends and my psych teacher knows that I am sexually active. She is going to make weed brownies and I'm going to get high at a slumber party. Sydney is interested in getting to know me. I am excited for all this and look forward to it. It was such a long day but it inspires me to be the best that I can. It makes me want to give laughter through the conversation about mushroom penises and flipping water bottles. I am BLESSED.  

I think I only write when I am about to get my period. It's like my sappy pms stories spill out onto the paper. All these words and emotions are fueled by my insecure hormones. It's like a disorder. I feel like my head is all messed up. There's a fog within it. I want to say what I want to say. The words end up lost in the mist never truly making it through all the neural pathways within my cranium. I dream of sex and dirtiness. My confidence doesn't exist. I wish that I didn't come off as put together because I am lost and I am scared. I want to stay in the fetus position. It would be a thrill to become an unborn child because there would be no worry. Currently, I am trying to sort through my emotions. I thought that I had become more logical that I was stronger than sentiment. The ideologies of other people dance across the top of my gentle trustworthy complexion. I'm nervous when put out there. I am completely underwhelmed.

Love is not something to understand. It is described differently by every person that I meet. I want to become an idiot. Everyone likes to say that thoughts are what curse the intelligent. It's stupid to be emotional. My metaphors and similes are just coping mechanisms for when I am sad.

I met a girl and show was so fine. She reminded me of how life is something to love. The happiest people can sometimes have the most sadness on the inside. I'm done crying because my hopes are soaring freely. Psych club was fun but short. They mentioned the fence that behind the portables. Mrs. Farabaugh said it was okay to go and see where it led. They and me were fine jumping but another girl was terrified at the height. I learned that it was because she broke some ribs as a child by doing the same act. She screamed at it and whined but with determination she was able to join on us the adventure. They would eventually give me here shoes because they were close toed. She would wear mine and feel the flying horse flies. There were butterflies and spiders but the trail would lead to an end. It didn't go anywhere. She would leave to her mom and would have to jump her fear again. They and me were left to walk together and we fucking bonded. We walked home and went to CVS. They bought chips and laughed. It was nice to just share life. I ended up back at their house. It was a mess but I did not mind. I told them to just let me see them act naturally and I got to know them so well. They showed me their pictures and told me about their sons. Their relationship goals and cute sensory box full of heartfelt gifts. It was nice to feel connected. I helped find the old bowel of ramen smelling up the room and took the dragon fly panty hose creation home with me.

I hate the hair on my chest. It makes me so insecure because it is ugly. I want to be happy and positive but I get so uncomfortable because it is there. I want beauty. I want to be considered attractive. Therefore I talk to people who call me pretty. People like my positivity and preciousness but I portray so much happiness because I believe that it can defeat happiness. My biggest fear is being alone. I feel like I'm ugly.

I thought that surrounding myself with many faces would make me feel less saddened by myself. It's weird. I thought that I had transformed into something new. The evolution that I wanted stood in front of me and I just couldn't grab it. Instead it slipped away from my hands. I'm happier than I once was but my roots are still in the ground. They remind me that I am not as confident as I think I am. It reminds me that I was built on being self conscious. He looked me in the eyes and told me to tell myself that I am a great person. He wants me to know that I am good. He wants me to know that what in my mind comes through onto my body and makes me beautiful. Outside and on the inside. I believed it in that instance that I was someone new. She was gorgeous and confident. She didn't feel bad about doing things she liked and was okay with lying to her mom. She just wants to be herself and not feel like judgment is placed above her head. That girl is who I want to be and I admired her in front of my eyes as I stared into his. The second I left was when she too decided to leave me. I felt like crying. It made me feel so close to being who I wanted.

I often feel guilty for opening my mouth. I say things that I should keep to myself. They're personal and the person beside me did not need to be saddened by it. I want to bring happiness and positivity to the people around me. I don't want to ever be serious. It can wait for when I am home alone. I can cry when I am alone. I can be comforted when I am alone. It is not right to hurt others for my own comfort.
No one is happy and no one understands how to compile a thought. They’re just crying over what they think is sad. People use labels to find out who they are. I’m disgusted. Labels aren’t helping you because in reality, it’s just your safe place to hide. It sounds like I’m attacking myself but I feel like people with labels are just afraid to face what really is out there. That’s why they cover themselves in fake interests. People are people and it’s that simple. There isn’t a deeper complexity to anyone. No one can be exactly like you. People are crying for the wrong reasons and emotional conflict. Everyone can be confused or troubled. Everyone can be depressed or stressed but then there are liars in the mix. The people who use emotions as a fad. It’s a style. A thing that allows themselves to part of a clique. I’m not saying to be hard on these confused people but to be gentle. These people need to be unraveled with careful skill. Minds are so confused. These labels aren’t helping them but cause them to exploit stereotypes. It isn’t fun but I suppose, someday, everyone will figure that they’re not special but something more. They’re human.

It might as well be my birthday because nothing has changed but my time and maturity. I had a friend named Marcy that came over to my house. She confided in me that her boyfriend was the best. They have been dating for almost two years. This girl Marcy is a superficial bitch. She has no right to tell me how to do things even with her own interest.  These feelings that she gave me intruded my insides like a sickness. I try to keep the illness down to just one pore of skin. It settles with control and concentration. The icky feelings sometimes get too hard to control and will turn into a bubbly, pus filled pimple. All my dark emotions hide within it. The emotions that make me feel small and worthless with no happiness. I keep them there. When a person like Marcy attacks my happiness, then the pimple starts to bulge and bloat. She causes me to let the feelings explode from it and seep into the rest of my skin. It spreads the infection. I can’t look at my face in the mirror because the more I do then the less I recognize myself. Where is the little girl that everyone used to know? I guess that she is gone.

I’m going to pretend that this is the first day of school. I’ve been forgetting to write and my outlet needs to make a comeback. Sophomore year is stressing me out already. I’ve gotten through one day and feel like I should stop trying. What’s the use anyway? I’m trashy and dumb. Slutty too with a fat and pompous belly. I’m insecure. I’ve come to terms with it and it is a sickening feeling. It is really strange to notice that I can’t even be myself when alone. I have to put up this fake front. An air of confidence which I don’t have and I’m scared that this thought process will end up getting me killed. I’M A SHELL IN A CELL. I’m screaming hollering from within. I am trapped. Haha. Absolutely trapped but I giggle and smile like life is a breeze because I pretend it is. I’ve got a good life but I can feel random waves of sadness. Spastic… The classes seemed nice. The people didn’t. I’m going to try. I guess.  

Since you are an adult that makes it okay to deny my questions because they are known of my business. Yes, Mom, you are in fact an adult. You are 55 years old and I wonder if you have ever given a blow job before. You hate the idea of anal and it gives me such a fear. Haha. A fear indeed because my sexual appetite is a bit different from yours. I am a minor. When I tell you that it is known of your business then you attack me and force the information from me. I am a minor which means my consent means nothing to you. Consent just means danger while hurting my thoughts means protection. I’m trapped in a corner where laws and safety are used against me. It’s just how sexual I am. I like sex. I do.

I feel like a piece of shit. My mind is swirling in all the different ways that I'm purposely trying to make myself sick. I'm contradicting myself at every turn like a piece of shit. Reiterate piece of shit for reassurance. There is no talent. There is no understanding. Everyone is going to tell you that you're great because you need reassurance. Dear diary, it has been confirmed that I'm being reassured to be a piece of shit. It's true. I'm a sad sorry fellow disguised as a girl. I want what I want but I stand and won't grab it. At times, I should be selfish. I need to be selfish and unstressed and unaware. But I am aware and I am upset but I can't think of that. I am a piece of shit. My heart is erratic and flutters around from my feet to my mouth. It wants to leap out and  fall to the ground. Someone please use a gun and shoot my medulla. Stop my breathing and the erratic beat of my heart. I cry and have fits and it's all because I'm a piece of shit. I wish my feet could hold the ground. But they're swept up by the thoughts inside of my head. Find the rope where I can hang. Let me put it to the side with my shaking hands. It doesn't mean shit to me because I don't care. My life is meaningful. I can't lie and call myself disgraceful. Even if I am meaningful, I can still be a piece of shit. Give me another hit because it will still be a miss.

I exist to socialize. I enjoy the warm sensation that it gives me but I can't help feeling like there is something missing when I start to feel uncool. There are so many bad habits that have been cultivated inside my brain. It's unhealthy the way that I can tear through the meat of cheek or how I can tweak hairs out from eyes that cause blood to leak. I get an innocent message, "Are you still alive?" I proclaim that I love to socialize but I realize that I'm getting caught up in my own separate world. My ideologies have made it so that I can't socialize. There is a wall. A great, big, glanderous wall that has applied its roots to my feet. I can't walk or move or speak. It's so blank and silent. I sit and study and repeat. The doctor won't give me medication but I want to see what it does. Maybe it will cause me to speak and not care what others say. But I can't because it isn't right to do that before cognitive therapy. I want to be brave to everyone that deserves it but I can't be brave till I decide that I can finally open my mouth to the people who deserve it first. I am guilty of a deeper issue.

I've started to write again but believe me when I say that it is sad. I never meant to obsess over my life because I meant to live it like when I was younger. When I was younger, I was much sweeter, never had a complaint and was much more somber. Now, I get up and worry about all my problems and the looming tests that are over my shoulder. But I can't slow down. I have to put all these things first. School is the priority not my feelings. I sit and pluck my eyelashes because nothing ever matters. I'm just human, a human being with no purpose.
My writing has turned to sludge. I try to make my fingers trudge an unwilling pen across flaccid, breakable paper.  My insides are churning and they're spoiling. Ripening to the point where I become frail. I don't feel like a human being anymore. I've come to the conclusion that I am selfish and lonely. My mouth spouts about the dreams that I've been having. I laugh and smile but behind it inside my head I am spiteful! But why be spiteful? Why be bitter? I haven't any reason to be. The people around me are supportive. My money is plentiful. My head must be covered in muck because I am much more fortunate than most so therefore I am exaggerating.

New love. It is the spark of attraction. I can't help but feel slutty. I love the feeling of arousal. It is a feeling that I crave. I wish to have someone to hold me and let me kiss their face. These bland words of eroticism mean much more to me than they could to anymore else. I can't help but feel like I am the only person accepting of such sexual attention. It can be a male or female but either or is a perfect match. As long as I feel less lonely, I suppose any person can mold my silly holes of a lack of personality.

I've gotten into the habit of ridiculing myself. It isn't pretty, attractive, or right. It's just another thing that can make me bland. Is she bright? Does she have a personality? No, I just beat myself over things that could basically be nonexistent if I chose to ignore them. I'm getting tired of laughing at myself and so are the people around me but my jokes won't be funny if they're not about how stupid I am. I'm struggling, and I'm feeling voiceless. There is so much pent up emotion that I have collected because I don't want to be sad. I don't want to acknowledge that my existence is right now. I think back to middle school and dream deeply of when I decided to become air. I had a relaxing, metaphorical idea that if I was to become air then I would be giant, great, and looming. But yet, I wouldn't seem to not exist. I wish to gain the pleasant feeling of being nothing but a gentle breeze, a chill in the winter, or the refreshing gust of relief when a person is hot and needs air. It's so silly and mundane that my arrogance wants to be air but I can't help but dream.

Math makes me cry but what doesn't at this point. I need someone to read my writing who doesn't have a bias. It makes me feel guilty to push it on my friends. I'm nonexistent and tiny. I've become a recluse within my own mind. These emotions are exaggerated. I wish that I could point that out. I'm too selfish and undecided to figure out why I really hate myself by the end of the day. There are too many things that I wish I could say but there is a evil, lurking voice in the back of my head that tells me not to do it. It tells me that everyone is critical and they hate me. I think that I might hate myself to. I say it so much that I might start to believe it. Disappointment is the word that would describe me. It's who I am and all I'll ever be.

My problems are miniscule. I suppose that is why I have to be serious. Everyone has a right to feel troubled. I would never demand that I can't. It's just that I want to tell all people how I feel. I want to ask if it is okay for doing what I do or ask for the answers of an assignment from school. I'm intimidated and it makes me feel like I'm in this contradicting box. I have such strides of confidence and happiness. I can't put any of it to use. Instead, I whine and cry about how I hate myself. I feel lonely and selfish. I wish that I could stop feeling bad for myself. There is an uncomfortable monster inside my stomach. The demon is pressing and shifting. It's such a discomfort that I get distracted from what I need to get done.

Events do become predictable. I've convinced myself that being mundane will support me structurally. Events do happen. A quiet laugh in a classroom made too big. A cry when I'm home and alone. These things become predictable and I think that maybe I should become more liquid. Spontaneous is the goal. My first thoughts think of risky business like maybe suck a stranger's dick will make me happy. I like reflecting. I enjoy this time to write but what I can't enjoy is the stress and advice that I get from others. However, dare if I say this because it makes me a hypocrite. Time it slips through my fingers in such an idyllic manor. It's translucent. Sucking dick, doing drugs, or spending time in my room will become a sin. What I want will become corrupt to the people around me. The people around ask me "If I'm okay" or "Are you sure" but I don't think that I could ever be regrettable. Half the time I'm crazed for experience but the other half I am prepared to back down. It's change that I crave but at what price.

Twitchy, twitch, and more twitches. I can't stand still with my head in stitches.  Existence is always troubling me. Sweet, cute, Autumn. Sweet, cute, angelic me! I'm tired of flattery because in reality I am jittery and nervous. I try to be pure and give off my loveliest essence. However, my words get twisted the more that I speak. The more that I talk, the less I know how to react.

Troublesome in virtue. I've come to write again about how I wish that I felt safer. It would be nice if I could feel confident but instead I'm just questioning. I'm not humiliated but I'm just unsure. I'm unsure if I should talk to the people in the hall. I'm not sure if I should go back to eating lunch in the lunch room. I'm not sure if I should kiss a girl again because my parents think gay stuff is bad.  I'm not sure about anything that I do and maybe that is how to describe lack of confidence. I know that I am sure that I am kind and funny. I know that I am sure that I can be desired and wanted. I'm just unsure at how to initiate any kind of personal trait because I ask "What if?" It is the stupidest question and the littlest problem. I want to smother myself into the ground and become ten times smaller. The things that come out of my mouth are too selfish to comprehend. I can't understand my writing's purpose when it is so clearly insulting to my intelligence. My problems are insignificant and once I realize that there is nothing to fear then maybe I can actually get somewhere.

I'm outgoing but I am an introvert. I am an INFJ with the desire to be an ENFJ. This struggle that I face is mental. I have the capacity to be so great. I am great but not good enough. There isn't much to say.

I am in the right mind. I laughed and cried with the upmost joy. I took it close to heart. I decided to share it with the rest of everyone around. They're kind and comforting. The people in my environment are all pleasing to see. There is the sound of jokes in the hall. My laughter is the loudest of the group.

Comfort me, please. I find myself in a state of awareness. One of a heightened perspective. I find myself at a party but I am not observing. In fact, I have become the main site of attraction. My body moves in a way that makes eyes turn like a magnet. They're staring at me because I am a light. A beauteous light without worry. Nothing could have stopped me at that moment until my stomach started to feel sick. Frightened by nausea, I threw up in the Girl's bathroom. It was dizzying and electrifying. These feelings of true elation were never something I thought existed. I walked out of the stall and  back to the party room. A friend approached me, told me I was high or stoned or some other lame adjective. I didn't care because my audience was applauding me as I approached the dance floor. True elation is what I felt but it wasn't natural. It was surreal. I went home and cried myself to sleep.

He  tells me that it feels like a Halloween every day. It's funny and cynical. I love it. Pretending to be someone else every day is what this means because life is so shitty that it has to be ignored. I could agree with this. I thought that he has a point. It's a really stupid and shitty point because life is not monotonous. Life is always changing and that it is what makes it beautiful. This guy had screwed his life up so bad. It wasn't like "hey I hate the way I look" kind of bad but the "hey I'm addicted to heroin" kind of bad. He spends over 1,000 dollars a year on his addiction and so he tells me that life is Halloween every day because he has to pretend it is worth living. This man was the kind that would describe things with word ubiquitous because how big and massive he needed to be. It's truly a sad thing to be wanted but hated by everyone around.  

It feels like every blink is another chance missed. Each day is an adventure filled with luxurious socialization. I wave and laugh. I tell you hello. This makes me great. Interaction gives me the confidence to succeed. It's nothing like reading in between the lines because I am spontaneous. Everything is mine and nothing can wait. I am so experienced at shooting that all my hits take.

I tried acid today. This kid told me in great detail that it's awesome. I guess, I agree. It's just a drug not a monumental moment. It's not a big deal. I wasn't elated to get my hands on it like weed was. I'm just sorry. Actually, I liked it. Things became more vivid. Colors became more elaborate. I just wish that I felt changed after doing it. Weed was like a rebellion. I felt exhilarated to try something that keep my mind from retracting like a claw. I hate myself. I wish something could breathe into me when I hiccup. I wish some experience could make me something other than just passive.

I've changed a lot. I haven't changed a bit. I'm not happy. I'm feeling sad. I hate who I was in middle school so I close it off but the more time I spend thinking of the past is how I realize that I am still the same.

I have a list of dicks that I want to suck. I want to be touched and I want to be fucked. My body is just an enigma. It is puzzling to understand because my will is so free. It just wants to go with the flow and feel good. I want to feel good and when someone gives a warming touch then I appreciate it. I appreciate being appreciated. Worship me and my sexuality.

It's okay because I have you. The person that I can depend on. The person that I love. My love is perfect. They complete me in all the disgusting ways that I desire. He fills me up. He has made me into one person. My love is the only one that I can talk to without missing out. He is the only person that makes me feel like my decisions are good. Whole is my dream. I have become one person and I am never to split. I used to be split with two never ending dreams. One where I was alone and the other where I was filled to the brim with other living people. I usually found myself okay with being left out but now I find myself enjoying the time I have being whole. It's a lot nicer to be full than empty. I can confirm this because since I've met the one I've become more happy. My lover has made the special dream come true. I have so many friends and so many people who enjoy my presence. I am no longer in the dream where I was alone. I'm always with you now. The one that I love has fulfilled me.

It's like I'm no longer myself. I spend so much time alone and I never thought it would bother me so much. I can't figure out if it is making me upset or not.

I hate these feelings of such dread. It so slow and painful through my head. It's like my body has fallen into a deep slumber. Where only life can wake it back up but no wants to be around me. I had someone say something nice to me. It made me feel such joy. But I'm scared of making a fool of myself.

I'm so mad at letting myself get caught up in my emotions. I don't want them to control me but they always do. Now, it is panic which has grasped me in it's horrible grip. It squeezes me at the throat so that I cannot breathe. Spit and snot gather in the way air so I vomit. It was terrifying. I was so overcome with panic and anxiety.  It was an attack on my senses where my tears failed to stay within. It was a mess. An embarrassing mess which I should not be feeling. I huddled into the fetal position with my hands clutching my sides. Over redundant and cliché I feel like I should not be feeling the way that I am.

The panic follows me when I get up and go through my day. I'd like to call it a friendly shadow that grips at my feet while I walk. It wants to overcome me and it will eventually become all that I am. My body is turning into something like a mass of gelatin. It jiggles with its sick stature of sugar and molasses. It is slow to react. It is a friendly metaphor to be jello. I compare myself to jello because footsteps make me quiver. I am frightened into the anticipation of having to interact. It is a strange feeling to be so overcome with fear of leaving my comfort zone and I hate myself for it. I used to write about love. In fact, I did it a lot. But love is not important when I can't even begin to accept myself. I can't accept that I am worth all that I am because I'll just complete another failure. I am scared of all my failures. It could be simply saying hello, to failing a test, or having to witness cruelty in my own home. I am alone.

There is this immense pain of my body wanting to withdraw. I am a coin with two sides. My conclusion is that I'm posing for moments but I end up just taking a picture. It doesn't make sense but I find myself sitting and wondering about who I am. I hate that. I am who I am. There is a whole road of discoveries that I have yet to make. There is a longing, a hollowness within me. I get the feeling that I must be depressed but I'm still going through the motions. The same things give me joy and self pleasure but I will unsuccessful with my accomplishments. It's introspective for me to ponder why I feel so impatient. There should not be that much examination on how I feel. There certainly should be no examination for who I am as a person. It is asinine. My words, my face, my body. It feel as though I am a first timer.  

I'm really scared because I feel like I have gotten to myself. There is no inspiration to do school work. It does not thrill me or give me self confidence. I hate myself and the feeling is absurd. School used to fuel me but now it drains me.

There are three guys. Each one is slightly different. I am a hoe. These are my thoughts all the time in a row on repeat within my mind. They sound dirty. Slimy, like I am sludge. It makes me feel guilty that I like to be a hoe. I mean, I'm happy with being a hoe. I could just be curious for all I know. I love dick. I do know that but I don't want anything up my fucking vag or ass. I might be a hoe for sucking dick but I am nowhere near my full fuckable potential. These aren't actions of feminism or acts of treating my body like art. Men see me as an object so I suppose I do too. Now, my object, my body is art. It sounds like I'm contradicting myself but it is the manor that society comes up with labels that bothers me. My body is art but it is nowhere near a movement. Boys are sluts. Girls are sluts. Sexuality is joyous for both sexes so being an object does not make me feel bad if I see the fuckboy as an object as well. However, outside my mind I will remain the slut to society. It does not bother me because men look for sex but I am looking as well. I'm a smol whore. This message just means be careful. I have some standards but like I just want dick in my mouth.

I am happy being extroverted. I take chances and meet new people. My mind is always moving. I like to make jokes and have people laugh. I  enjoy insulting myself in awful ways.


I am trying birth control again but last time it made me depressed. This time I am having mood swings. They feel great. I do not like the mysterious sadness that it brings but my happiness is so joyful. It is exhilarating to feel the happiness that the pill causes me. It is like a surge of happy hormones within my head all shout praise towards me. I can laugh and say the things that I want to. I am awkward. I also don't enjoy when things do not go my way. I have to try out for something new or not and all these decisions are not making me happy.

Today I kept thinking about myself.  and how self conscious and how I really feel about things and it's like I went the counselor and she said "what do you  want" and it's like I don't know. But at the same time I am trying not to think about that and try to be more spontaneous from it but maybe being spontaneous means I have to plan just a bit. But like I told someone that I think that I am self conscious but it never gets anywhere. I don't know how to change my view of my body.

I am boring. It is true. I have begun to doubt how I feel. It is draining to be nothing. It feels like I can't overcome this feeling. Everyone is around me but I am so small. I think that I am comfortable with myself but there is so much doubt. I am told by my teacher that I need to find my identity but I don't think that is important. It seems she is worried that I might become confused with who I am but that is baloney. I told my mom this and she thought I meant baloney as in I had it all figured out. That isn't true. I still look from shoulder to shoulder at the massive globs of people around me. Some are giggling and some are avoiding my eye contact. I want to know who they are and they don't know who I am. I am just small and tiny like I've said many times.

I think that I am human. I'm not other worldly or extravagant. I'm not humble or small. I just wish my thoughts could become a full picture. My personality is like a puzzle. My identity are the pieces but they don't fit together. In other words, I feel like I am all mismatched. My friends make is seem like nothing. I don't think I've figured it out and it isn't coming to me from out of the blue. No flash of insight is compelling me to be passionate. I want to help people but someone might say I have to help myself first. I don't care and it's scary. I have no one. I have a few friends but the rest are not with me. I phase through them. I can say "how are you" but do I care? Does anyone care about the world like I do? It seems like I might be the giant and society is built up on ants.
Autumn's diary 6
teens are so funny 
all this website does is make me sad


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Gliophorus Featured By Owner Mar 7, 2015  Student General Artist
Thank you so much for the fav! :heart:
no problem! :) 
Caniidoq Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hello!~<3 ;v;
Caniidoq Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
How's life? XD
It's okay. Could be better honestly but I'm having a good time still. Hbu?  
SilverBatti3 Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2014
thanks for the watch!!!!
no problem!!! :)
SiftenHeirOfCreation Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2014  Student Digital Artist
Heyyy, AF, You're being followed!~ I ju2t had two make that joke, 2orry! XD
Johnkatforever69 Featured By Owner May 17, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the watch! <3
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