it's dark. just the way i like it.

and that's when the ghosts come out. they scare me when they say things about you. they like to creep into my ear and say things. and i like to listen to them because i like being mean. i am terrible aren't i?

i'm so tired.. oh, but i'm busy complaining when i am living my nice life here. a really nice life. no reason to complain.

just that when i have fallen in pain. all my weakness spilling out of me. it is quite a nice sight don't you think? oh. yes if you hated me and perhaps you might. but i really can't be bothered about all that. sometimes what everyone thinks of me.. yes, it cripples me somewhat. yet sometimes it does not. i do try.

i want to be alone. but i don't want to be. i surround myself with people. forcing myself. painfully. wondering i rather be the object of disregard or of attention.

my jaws really hurt. and my back. and my hands. too tense, too tense. they say that of me. and what a facade i have. to hide all that. to hide from you. and stop that staring. i can feel your eyes burning into my back. go away, go away.

i wave my hands in the air, as if a fly were in my face. of course, there is nothing. i'd like to clear this blurry vision, this ringing in my ears, at night a loud rushing roar which keeps me awake in the silence that darkness brings.

i hate myself when i pretend. ahh such a hypocrite. and people say, but we do that all the time. but for myself and many others like me.. is that not what we strive not to be? to always be honest, as much as possible.

everything is too loud. tired. that's what it must be. but there is work to be done which is not much. just emails or things that need sending. i shall do them otherwise i never will. ah. but studying. that's another problem. i need... perhaps i need a break. just like the million other breaks i took today.

yes, i am fine thanks for asking. really. but i hate pretending that im ok when im not. so i won't pretend here. a ":)" when my face looks nothing like that. nor shall i use "lol" when i am in fact, not laughing at all. and i refrain from using <3 because i don't mean it.

people always tell me to smile more. well. i smile more than i used to, i can tell you that. just so you know, im not depressed. although that is what depressed people say quite often don't they? like drunks love to demonstrate that they are quite sober by walking in the wobbliest straight line you've ever seen. stop telling me to think happy thoughts. i already know that. sometimes... it helps you know. that advice. but not always. sometimes happy thoughts make me more miserable.

my ears hurt..

and all this randomness.. supposedly written to sound impressive or interesting or whimsical in style; it's all overrated.

oh, and that i write this when i have work to do. piles. little ones. tiny little piles of paper. everywhere. tiny tiny little piles. squashed together. all just squashed very nicely. in a heap. a terrible, terrifying heap.

and did i mention that nothing makes sense anymore?