Psychotic Rock Star

The melancholy life of the Psychotic wannabe Rock Star.

Monday, April 18, 2005

Neither of you have ever given me the courtesy of thinking of how it must be like to be me. You perpetually assume that nobody but you knows who I am and what I go through. How clearly and ignorantly mistaken you are. Not once have you thought about what kind of person I am. You keep bull shitting and telling me that you're trying. But every single time I TRY to come to you, you fucking push me away. Sure, I know now, I'm the fucking last thing on your God damned minds. You only decide to come talk to me when you're pissed off and need to take it out on someone else. I SO FUCKING WISH YOU COULD SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING. You want to talk about me and religion? Me and Catholicism?? I don't believe anymore. You have no idea how much I wish I did. But that's just it, you have NOI FUCKING CLUE! You wouldn't know jack shit about me even if it hit you in the face. I wish I could just yell at you because maybe than, for once in your lives, you might feel the tiniest inkling of my pain. It's because of you that I wish I weren't born. I wish I never existed. I don't have any redeeming factors, people who tell me they love me all lie. AND WHO THE FUCK CARES IF YOU THINK I'M SEEKING ATTENTION?! The only reason why I haven't done anything is because I so desperately want to go to Melbourne and if I do anything, it's all over for me. Do you think I want that? DO YOU? It is so fucking typical for people to dangle things in my face and force me to do things that I never wanted to do in the first place. For God's sake, I wish you could even TRY and understand. You talk about wanting to be friends when all you want is to stick your over sized nose into my business where it doesn't belong.

The minute I can, no, the instant I can, I will take off. And don't even think about trying to get through to me because you can't, and you won't.

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