The stupid thing about a blog is that no one will read it unless there is something important on it. Like news or stuff about celebrities. Then again, I wouldn't want to read another person's blog who wrote the same pointless shit that I do. I'm back at home and I could be doing something else more productive to be honest. The thing is, that I'm always coming back to this. This blog. But, now I see that I have actually achieved in making this a diary, cause no one's reading it. It doesn't bug me really. It's not a surprise, but I'm thinking that maybe I'll just go back to writing in a journal. It's easier that's for sure, to write on the computer. The only bad thing is that I will end up needing a computer to think, to write. Sure, writing on random scraps of paper is convenient and all, but they are lost and sometimes even found. That's the worst thing that could happen because when you write on scraps your thoughts are raw, brutally honest and can be used against you. On the computer you can read it over before sending it out to "everyone" to read. In a way the computer makes you think twice about everything you do on it. But, I've already wrote a lot that could be used against me, to hurt other people and it could even be taken the wrong way. It's not the first time that I've considered what my mom would think if she read this stuff that I've wrote. Ya, one day she might and think differently of me. The perfect daughter image in her mind will be blown to hell and she'll have to deal with this hormonal mess, crazy god hating child she's got on her hands. The funny thing is that I'm not used to being myself. I've always been what the world wanted me to be. Unquestioning and silent. I'm glad if my words make sparks. If there is a fire with my name on it, I wont be surprised. But, I'm probably just dreaming again. It's better to dream about destroying lives than actually taking them. Even though that sounds cryptic, even I have low points. But to be honest, I've only wanted to kill two people in my whole life. The first one doesn't have a name. Cause I don't know it. He was trying to kick a peacock at the zoo. The other, has a name but I don't want to give him the pleasure of knowing he pissed me off to the point of tears. Most of the time I act so nonchalant about everything, but when I find a person who just hates, without reason, and the world would be so much happier without them, I can't stand it. It's people like them that kill me and everything that I have told myself about people. I'd never do it though. That the part that I cry about, that I'd reach a point where I'm considering it. But, then I find good people and I see that good people outnumber that idoitic ones, I return to normal... I guess. We all have faults, but some have no attibutes to balance them out. I'm smiling. I can't say why... Because I haven't figured it out yet. And you know what I think? I don't think. I just feel. The only thing I know is that it feels good to bask in disaster and wait for my boat to hit the rocks. My hearts beating and I'm alive. Do the idoitic people feel this? Maybe. The truth is I don't consider them human. They are just the rain. And I'm in my boat. The rain is clouding my glasses but, it doesn't matter. Because I don't need to go anywhere anytime soon. I can just float, write on scraps of paper and the rain can join with the water that holds my boat. Then, I'll be basking in this disaster that I've got and make the best of it. I can't stop this blog, it's like an addiction. It's like talking to the invisible person who completely agrees with me and doesn't think that I'm crazy. Even though I am. And this crazy girl will not give up on writing until she's hitting those rocks and the water fills her lungs.
