Calm like a bomb.

Mood severely pissed off
Wearing Reebok tennis dress
Eating/Drinking Extra Ice chungy and milk
Hearing Rage Against the Machine - Calm Like a Bomb
Dreamt about nowt
Currently reading nowt
Present MSN name I'm small but I'm strong.
Talking to nowt. I don't want to either.
Last text from Bone
Word of the Day kiwi

I might put my blog on hold for a while. I've had 700 views. People have seen what this is all about. I write about life and don't live it. I sit here and whinge and cry about how life has treated me so badly, when ultimately, I allow it and I treat others badly in return because of what I've had. I do it to myself. I do it to others. That doesn't make me a very nice person, does it?

I'm hypocritical, I'm selfish, I'm paranoid, I'm insecure, I'm foul-tempered, I'm foul-mouthed... and so much more. I couldn't care less about anything either - certainly it's just a phase, but it's still one that I have regularly.

I got an e-mail from Wig the other day. I read the first couple of lines and then stop reading. I don't like hearing my faults. I don't like hearing where I went wrong. I'm only too aware.
I don't like relying on people for things: namely, to make me feel good about myself. I don't like the way I am when I'm not feeling so great, and how I take it out on people and blame them because I don't want to blame myself: and it's only when I'm very low that I blame myself, and from there I sink further - getting angrier, getting more upset, sinking lower.
See that? That's self pity. I think it's so wrong of me to try and help other people, help them with their problems cos I can't/won't solve my own. I cover up my problems with theirs: and now even I'm unsure as to why I do. I only know that it's probably not entirely selfless.

I'm sick of not being able to be self-sufficient. I'm sick of hating people. I'm sick of being so angry. I'm sick of bearing grudges. I'm sick of covering for myself. I'm sick of getting so upset about everything. I'm sick of... I'm sick of the way I am.
So, I want to be myself, but I don't like who I am. Does that give me a good reason to change completely? Can I change completely? Would I, given the chance? And if you know me at all, you'd know the answer to that. And that's why it's so sad.

And y'know what else? I write stuff on here that I don't mean to say, I've let too much of myself go through this, and then carried it on by telling people more stuff about me that I hold very personal. All this crap I come out with will only be used against me eventually.

I've got fencing on Thursday. Mick'll be there. James will be there. I'm gonna be at church on Friday utnil Saturday and I'll be there starving for a day or so.
And y'know what? I don't even care. Feel alone. Always feel so fucking alone. For saying I let people know just about everything about me, I feel like they don't know me at all. And you want to know one of the big reasons why I don't like talking about my problems anymore (certainly face to face with people) is that I feel like I don't even know myself.

I could go through what we went through at Willersley: the whole identity thing. But instead, I'm going to go upstairs and sit on the floor or something for a few hours.

It doesn't matter what I do anyway: I'll still find a way of getting angry about it. Once I do, I dunno; maybe my wall will get yet another beating.

Until further notice: I will no longer be posting on this blog. I will write, cos I never have anything better to do. But don't expect me to post what I've written. I have got to get this all sorted out, or one day I'm just not going to able recover. I wish God would help me. But He doesn't. He never does.