I just spent the majority of my day today re-reading over my entries. I still haven't finished them.. I make myself so mad. And I can't understand how fucking stupid I was and how stupid I've remained. Every fucking entry was talking about Jake.. or some guy I like(d) and I wouldn't stop. And I've realized I'm an emotional whore. And I bet 85% of my entries are pointless brigades and they wouldn't even be missed if I were to delete them right now.. but I'm not going too since they were feelings (as stupid as they were) and it was a part of my life at that time.

I'm a stalker. I should be kept in a cage. I shouldn't have a heart. I'm not supposed to love. I'm not supposed to feel this way. I'm not supposed to be anything. I'm not anything. I'm an idiot dragging around my luggage for attention. And what makes you think I'm not typing this for attention? I don't even know why I persist so much.

I repeat myself continually. I realize what I'm doing but .. do I stop? Do I retract statements? No. If I can't stick to my words in this diary, what makes me think I can do it in reality?

Pay close attention, you could miss something.

I have secrets, I lie constantly and I have habits too far and white to bring into daylight.

I have goals that I setup and I never complete. I entrust my own promises to a false standard and I never accomplish anything. I want to walk by the ocean and feel the weight of the sun. I want the sky to show me a morning. A private consultation under the milky way tonight.

I don't even know what I want anymore. There's some people out there that claim their stakes and leave it at that. How can you back a statement with "because"? And why do I even mind when people ask if I do? I stumble blindly with my eyes wide shut and I can't reach that doorway. What luck, I found a key for the wrong exit.

What's the meaning behind my existance? Why do I continue the way I do? Sometimes I look around the place I live and wonder how I came to choose the things I did.

My heart is on the line, you'll find.

xxxx