I'm always deleting things. I wish I could delete my life sometimes, but I've written in pen and run out of white-out. I like his voice and imagine he's whispering to me. They never whisper to me. I pretend well, though. Smile and nod, smile and nod.

I had to go. I had to leave and I left and now I can't return and they don't hear me banging on the fucking door. I've played my part well. Do they hear me? Hello? I'm out here, waiting. I'm out here and he just keeps talking mindlessly. He just keeps thinking I'm listening, when I smile that fake smile and he thinks he knows me but all I can think of is whether I should cut my hair again.

It's like Peanuts. I'm stuck in a comic strip and everybody has this crazy nonesense pouring out of their lips. What the fuck do you think I just said? I just said that. Stop stealing my ideas, please. Nothing you say have I not thought of before. I'm smarter than you. I'm more dillusioned than you, dammit.

I'm in love with a guy who doesn't love me back. He's always been there for me when I needed him. Always there when I looked. I look and look now and he's never there. I look and look and he's disappeared. I think I'm doing better, but I've just stopped caring. Maybe that's what doing better is. God, would they fucking shut up. Would they just shut up?

Today, I can be whoever I want to be. I smiled at a man I didn't know. I smiled and he looked at me like I were insane. I just want to make them all happy. They all like me. Everyone likes me. Smile and nod. Even my controversy is likeable. Ooh, fiery little girl. Smile and nod.

Don't patronize me. God, I wish I had her voice. Last month I sat on my bed and I prayed to God. I have never prayed to God. I have never capitalized the word "god". I don't believe in God.

I should really get that dirt out from under my fingernails. Or just take a shower already. I probably stink now. Didn't want to get out of bed. Why should I get out of bed? "I will always be there," he said. He lied. I find myself lying just to avoid some things.

I have always wanted to show myself to other people. But I could never figure out why it was so hard. I could never figure out why I couldn't sum myself up in a few words and have it all make sense. I don't know. I lose interest in people I know. What is the point of being with people I know?

Who will I be today? I think I'll just stay up all night again. I have a midterm next week. I should be studying. I really hate people. I hate that their words carry no meaning, I hate that my words never achieve their own meaning. People make me happy. Their beauty mingles with my own and for a few moments it's as if the world is beautiful again. If I could feel again. I feel too much. I can't stop feeling. I used to be unable to watch movies in the presence of other people because it took too much effort for me to hold the tears in, and it felt like my soul was being crushed under the weight of trying to pretend. I'm so tired of pretending.

Shh. I keep wanting to hush. I feel so quiet. It's strange to feel quiet. I don't want to make a sound. I find myself feeling irrational anger at anything that makes a sound. My goddamn hands are clicking on the keyboard and the voice is blaring out of my speakers and I just want it to stop. I like the feeling of wanting it stop.

What the hell is that stain on my floor? I should clean my bedroom. Why make a bed if you're going to sleep in it? I don't like sitting here quietly. I want to take a drive. I want to drive and drive. To Colorado. Everyone I know is in Colorado. I don't think I'd like Colorado. So many books to read. I have two midterms next week. I think my professor was looking down my shirt. I wonder if he's gay. I think I'll go get drunk. I meet beautiful people and they are so far away. If he dies tomorrow will I cry? I think I'm in love with a boy. It's just because he doesn't bother me, though. Shh.