it never ends.

june 7th. that's a long time to not blog. i feel like i only write when there's no other outlet for my feelings. which is the truth. other things that are more personal, more private, i keep in a journal for myself. and those who find the need to read it. but i don't mind. read my journal. read about my life. it won't change anything in the end anyway.

we all sit here and read each others' blogs on the internet. but the real reason that people do that is because we want to feel like we are someone else, like we have someone else's life. we want someone else's life. something unfamiliar. something unknown, unlike our own. it's like an escape to an alternate reality.

writing, to me, is a form of therapy. i have no idea where one paragraph is going to go, or if it will even lead to the next. the rules of english no longer apply when you let your fingers run free and do all the talking. i don't even give myself time to think. i just type. because that's where great ideas come from.

i can definitely see myself as the drunken, lonely writer. sitting in the attic with no one to talk to. so i write, pretending that i'm talking to someone else. thinking someone is listening. that someone will care.

in the end, no one cares. as much as people say they care, they don't. no one gives a shit about problems that aren't their own. problems that they think they can relate to but actually have no idea what the circumstances are actually like.

i can change myself in any way possible. i can pretend to be whoever i want. i can change my nail color, i can lose/gain weight, i can dress like a hobo one day, and a princess the next. it doesn't matter what i change on that outside, because on the inside, i'm still going to be a wandering lost soul, in search of something that does not actually exist.

sadness, loneliness, feelings of inadequcey, pain and suffering is all life actually is. there are times when i feel happy. laughing happens and is over so quickly. then the negative feelings return. i find out they never left in the first place.

depression. lost sense of direction. that's all there is. there is nothing else.

there is..

there's the end.