I love talking to him, love love love. I dont think I would ever say this, but I love him. I still think that love is only found in fairy tales, so I guess I am living in a fucked up one. Dreaming of friendship and being happy. Dreams are the only place I know where I can have those things. Real life is lonliness and tears. Bleeding from "accidental" cuts and wanting to not be such a loser. We where talking about knives, he has quite a collection you know. I told him that I was thinking about getting a nice knife and he said "I will look into that". He likes me so much he would give me a knife. Yesterday sucked. Lies suck. People suck. Fuck the world and all of the inhabitants thereof, amen. *crosses self*. I got two letters today, one is from my feathery friend, and the other one was from him. Not him that I love, but him. The one that says he wants me. I want him too, but I dont want to hurt other people. So I want everyone, fine. I dont understand why people say they like me, or act why they like me. I am not likable, at all, so whats the fucking point? He wrote me a love letter of sorts. It was nice, but it made me uncomfortable. But I havent done anything like that in awhile, or, not for a few weeks. I hope I dont do it again, they got angry at me. He wouldnt talk to me. He was sad that I didnt make better choices, he was sad that his friends didnt take better care of me while he was gone. He was sad that I did that to him. I was sad too. I am at the library, my place of refuge as nerdy as that sounds. I come almost everyday, get a new movie, use the computer for a time, and them leave again. It has air conditioning, its to hot at my house. She was made of ink. Her ink body was twisted at an unnatural angle. I guess she fell off a cliff. Maybe she jumped off a cliff. Her eyes are wide and staring, her mouth curved as if in pain. She was surrounded by her own ink blood. I wish I was strong enough to die. I am weak enough to keep on living with myself. Girls are annoying. I get along with boys better. Sure there are some... but not alot. Sex and money is what the world is learning about these days. You can always get one from the other. I visited my mom today. I bought her a bean and cheese burrito from Betos. We where sitting in her office, and she was talking to me. All she talked about was my sister visiting. My dad loves her more than me. She came over last night and talked. She hates me too. She was the golden child and I was the black sheep. I guess after she moved out it stayed the same. I am still the dark one. Vivid dreams smelling of white tea and spearmint. Intense colors stand out. The faded web of my mistakes finds a dark home in the corner of my mind. The web grabs all of the good things. Bad things make the web bigger. The small spider named Lie strangles the good things. Lie is feeling very prosperous, he is my only friend. My tears are all gone, I am feelingless now. I dont talk. I dont cry. I dont laugh. Like a worn statue in an old graveyard, I am always there, but never giving any emotion. One love fills part of the hole. But one man cannot mend a soul thats burned. He tries so hard. I might just be being selfish, but maybe a team of loves could fix me. Maybe if I had everyones love I would be truly happy again. "No, this is'nt a knife! Its a truth telling machine, it makes sure that everyone I talk to tells the truth." Thats for you. I hope you are smiling. The flower was made of graphite. It was gray and wilted. Blood dripped from the petals and leaves, making a pool at the bottom. The only color there was in it was red. I hate pretty people. In the name of the uglies