Funny thing happened a few days ago. I was asleep, dreaming of my wasps. I suddenly felt a pain on my arm and shoulder. I woke up, feeling my skin burn, and crying. The burn went away, I didnt know what had happened, I went back to sleep. I woke up in the morning feeling the same burn, and decided to stay awake. My arm was swollen, and I had multiple red marks on it. Later that morning I found a wasp on my pillow. My arm still hurts and is red, only now it itches like hell and when I scratch it, it just swells bigger. What is the meaning of this experience? I guess I should just check my bed before I sleep in it... Stupid hollie. I just dont know what to do anymore. I go to school. I go to band. I come home. I sleep. Sometimes I eat. On weekends I might see my boyfriend. I am so blessed, I have nothing to complain about. But I complain all the time. I am pitiful, an awful and terrible being that does not have compassion or dignity. So far all I have done with my life is wasted it. I say I love the world, and all the people. But do I really? I dont act like I love anything but myself. So so selfish is I. So so stupid. I dont understand why all of these people say that they are my friends. Some of them try to explain themselves. And I beleive them. But others... It seems like that if I am a little quiet or indifferent, people wonder why. They think that I am just sulking for attention. They beleive that a hollie is a one-dimensional, always happy, always crazy, being. They dont understand that I have deeper feelings and thoughts, they dont understand what I really am. They dont even attempt to listen to me, they leave me aside untill they feel like being cheered up, then they come to me. If it is always going to be like that, I will be mean to you when you want to be cheered up. You dont care about me, why should I care about you? Fine, world, the world which I so loved, I am turning against you. Its your fault that I am this way, you cant bring me back to your open, yet hateful, arms. I guess I will leave this with you, to wander in the cold and ponder my death. When I come back, it will be to tell you that I am dieing. in the name of the will...