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22/08/2013

Day: whatever.

I walked into my room angrily and shut the door behind me. I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself. My big eyes staring into my own big eyes, my freckled nose, my thin lips, long neck, collar bones, small chest, long fingers, thigh gap, and thin legs. I tried to read the mind of the person standing behind the mirror, because I had no idea what was on my mind either. And I felt ugly.
"I hate you. Oh god. I hate you so much. You are the ugliest person I've ever met." I said. I did not feel the kind of ugly that makes it hard for others to look at you, but the kind of ugly that makes it hard for others to stay with you. I felt ugly on the inside and if you've never felt that, be glad. It is a horrible feeling to feel.
I rushed towards my cupboard and threw all my clothes on the floor. I wore my white gown, and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Still ugly.
I felt on the huge pile of my clothes, the window was open and the sunshine fell on my face, trying to make me look away. But I didn't.  I stared at the sun, lying there, like a dead body. So cold, and still. I couldn't feel anything, I couldn't.. think of anything. I couldn't move. I couldn't feel a single thing. All I knew was I wanted to cry. But I didn't.
I wanted to feel something. I wanted to feel beautiful on the inside and out. I wanted to feel loved. I wanted to feel excitement. Thrill. Happiness. Anger. I wanted to feel everything, instead I just laid there staring at the sun and wishing it would swallow the earth, so that everyone's forced to start a new life. I swear, I could stay on my pile of clothes till then.
My mom came into the room, and saw me in my white gown. She fell right beside me on the pile of clothes, and looked at the sky.
"You'll be okay, you know that, right?" She said, staring at the sky.
"Yeah."
"What's wrong?" She looked at me, and placed her hand on my shoulder.  "Why are you wearing the sad gown?"
"Because I am sad." I replied still staring at the sun.
"It'll soon go away." She said.
"I don't feel beautiful, mumma. I don't feel..anything at all. I wanted to feel beautiful and this gown has always made me beautiful. It didn't.  I wanted to feel beautiful, I wanted to... feel something." I replied with a breaking voice, and hid my face in the clothes.
I wanted mumma to go away and not talk to me, because I knew if she said another word, no matter what it was, I was going to cry. My mouth was shaking. I didn't want her to see me cry.
"I am gonna make something for you, call me when you're done."
And she left. I smiled but started crying as soon as she left.
I did not know why. The day was fine, in fact more than fine. Everyone complimented my outfit, I was smiling the entire time. I had no idea why was I crying.
I guess sometimes you just cry, not because of a reason or because you want to. Because you have to.

08/08/2013

I'm sorry, okay?

Every time I want to write something, all that comes into my head is "I'm sorry". I'm not even sure what I'm sorry about.
I'm sorry that I'm bad at beginnings, I'm pretty bad at middles and ends too, so I'm sorry about that as well. I'm also bad at distinguishing a beginning, middle, or end. I'm sorry.
Hello, how are you? I'm sorry. Meeting new people isn't easy for me. And I'm sorry if we could have been best friends, or fallen in love, or you could've made me a better person.
Hey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Maybe if I wasn't myself too much, maybe if I wasn't so trapped in myself, and maybe if I wasn't choking on my silence,  we could've been more.
Maybe then the beginnings wouldn't be so difficult.
I'm sorry I ruined everything.