two hours out of my day and days out of my life

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 that silly pete wentz, are you updating again already?

reading always makes me lose whatever is my latest false sense of security. read this book about a boy that was born retarded and so when his friends are laughing at him he thinks they are laughing with him. he has a surgery and becomes really smart, smarter than even the doctors that gave him the surgery, and wakes up to how people really are and stops caring. he becomes violent and pushes people away. he only acts like he used to before the surgery when he's drunk. soon he regresses back to how he was and sees the world from that childlike point of view and everyone that laughed at him before is his friend again because he's too dumb to realize they're not.

this got to me more than it should have. reading it i related to a lot of it, especially acting out rashly when i'm not sure of how i'm supposed to feel. i think i can relate to this for the simple fact i get pushed to places i don't want to be, and then watched under a microscope as i react. people tend to forget that things they do and say really do hurt me, and i'm not just reactions and overdramatics, that and words on a screen you can push to see how long i take to bend and break. maybe i don't have the calmest or most collected way to get my point across or express how i am feeling but since it's the most interesting it's often the most taken advantage of. it's raw, it's honest. noone wants to watch a boring tv show so why would they want to read boring updates or date boring boys? keep it fresh, if it starts to scab and heal make sure it pick at it.

i'd say "thank god it was negative" too but i know at one time it wasn't negative jeanae. that last entry was about you, not about anyone else. because what you had was real. had and was. and somewhere still is however much of a right it lost to live and breathe and become something greater than either of us. and i don't think you could handle that you'd always be tied to me in some way. i think last night a piece of me died i can never get back and i hope you have fun continuing your life like you didn't just lose one. it hurts to see everyone commenting you and buddying up to you when they have no idea about the hospital visits and nights you called me sick and throwing up. nights we can pretend don't exist because it doesn't fit in your purpose anymore. over a year of effort thrown away- or rather flushed- overnight. you don't get over pain like this.

i'm on privacy, if you want me to talk to you leave me your aim name and i'll add it. don't worry, you can leave it to one of my entries that screens comments and i'll still get it. i need new faces to forget old places i don't want to go back to. i realize that's a burden for anyone but it's time i stop sidestepping or walking backwards and put my best foot forward, even if it's the one that always gets stepped on.

"like going and picking out your coffin and sitting in it to test it out a few days before you die"

i don't think i want to live in chicago anymore, whenever i get back to the states.