Brother Where Art Thou?

I hate him. I miss him. He's stupid. He's my brother.

I told him, along with my mother and step-dad, that we'd all try again in 6 months. I have to stick to that. I have to stick to that. I have to stick to that. I have to stick to that. I have to stick to that. I have to stick to that. I have to stick to that. I have to.................

I met with my Aunt today. She knows. What I'm doing to myself. She told me that you dread the day that it all falls apart. Emotion, all night, has been welling. It's strange since I haven't felt in so long. I'm having trouble even writing this down. My brother, Miles, is one of the only people who knew the Old Me. Sock did too. But Miles know the little me, the 5-year-old me. And I can't talk to him. He's so cultist, or rather involved in one. I just can't believe I lost him. Denial I guess. He makes me out to be the evil one? Eff!!! He's ridiculous, he's become me, or the Old Me. *shudder* No one should ever have to be that. I don't even know him anymore. At all. Is it him who has changed beyond recognition. or me? Have I become what I once feared? No. I am sane. Normal. Absolutely normal. Ish..... God....... what's happened. We once used to be able to get along despite our differences. Now, or I guess I should say when, we talk, he'll preach, or judge. I just couldn't do it any more, I couldn't take it. And while I may lose it after my fingers leave the keyboard. I think of him tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after, and.....always. Forever. Because he's my little brother. I would give my life for him. Funny though, he probably would thing it was good enough to accept. Sorry, sarcasm comes easily. Oh well. It's sad that my heart beats for that boy and only that boy.

How Deep Is Your Love?

It rained today. While the sun has been a nice change, I try not to freak out and run about in the rain. I feel like I may be slipping back into my insomniactastical habits..... and that's not good news. But while I'm up, I'm thinking about future plans.... not super future, but close future. Since I'm no longer a music major, what did I do? As I write, I still can't think of what to say next. Art? Fire Science? Argh.... Dammit.

"Because we're living in a world of fools."

Assumed Guilt

Stop,
Sending me letters saying you care.

Stop,
Leaving me messages saying that you love me.

Stop,
Checking up on me saying; "You're worried.".

I,
Don't care about the words you write
To make yourself feel less guilty.

I,
Don't care about the fake pain in your voice you use
To make me feel guilty.

I,
Don't want to pack my bags
For that needless guilt trip.


Stop,
It won't work.

I,
Won't come back.

Disjointed

I'm in one of those weird moods. Where I get a glimpse of what it was like to feel.

I found a bunch of stuff from Thomas, and all the written records of our meaningless conversations. The notes we passed in class. Feeling = Disgusted.

My mom, has been trying to talk to me. She actually texted me for the first time ever. That is a big deal if you know my parents history with texting, and me. She also Emails me songs that are from my childhood. Is she trying to make me feel guilty I'm not 7 anymore? That's one I won't fall for. I told her, we needed 5 months apart. Am I willing to go back on my word about needing space yet again? Feeling = Irritated.

I showed Socks some poetry a dear friend wrote, that I absolutely loved. I showed her because I wanted to share it with her. Not because I wanted her to effing critique it. But she did. She thinks because she did P.O.L. twice, she knows everything about poetry and what is good and what is not. This poem was amazing. I know now, never show her mine. She says I don't let anybody in. She doesn't even read this anymore. And I don't even show her all of me, because of this. She did the same thing my Step-Father did when he didn't like some of my music, told me that my taste in all music was bad. She's worse, she acts better than me all the time. She thinks she smarter than me, and she has more knowledge. She doesn't. I don't correct her or try to prove her wrong, because honestly, what's the point? She'd think I was being thick. *sigh* Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me lately.... I love her I do......I just can't stand how highly she thinks of herself. Feeling = Exhausted.

Speaking of poetry, I wrote something new. I'm considering editing it, but I told Elva not to do that very thing. Ah hypocrisy. Feeling = Rebellious.

Dream Of A Greater Meaning

I'm constantly amazed at how dreams can wither make my day wonderful, or horrid. Funny enough, dreams filled with passion, sex, and fast cars always make my day better. I know, I'm such a guy in that respect. Dreams filled with my family, death, and unfairness.......make me want to kill something. Strange, is it not? The unreal determines the real. So since I've been actually sleeping my dreams now determine my mood. How shallow is that? Whatever.....as long as they aren't weird and make me want to jump off a cliff, then I'll take the mood swings. Even though my emotions mean little, as in, I feel nothing. I'll take what the unreal gives me.

Sun

So, I've started sleeping normally. I realize this is a grand achievement for yours truly. I've began to start seeing the sun. This is good. I'll even go outside occasionally. I am beginning to see the world, and realize that I'm not the only depressed person in it.

Bright

Got dressed.
Put on makeup.
For the first time in months I feel pretty. I look cute, the way I used to when all my friends hailed me as "The Bright One". I can't think of what has changed. Yes life goes to shit, but we pick ourselves up and move on.

Or so I think.....today at least.