I have spent the morning writing poetry and singing to myself. I feel as if I'm under some sort of spell. Inside my head, It's all right. But, then why is reality so much better than my nighttime dreams? Oh, the things I'll never say. "what's wrong with my tongue, these words keep slipping away. I stutter, I stumble, like I've got nothing to say...Cuz I'm feeling so nervouse trying to be so perfect..." Wow, what is going on, what is wrong with me? I feel like it's spring time, I keep looking outside. I feel sick and jittery only after my day dreams. I'm speaking jibberish, aren't I? I make myself sick the way I'm acting. I was the one against all of this in the first place. Stupid! And yet...I know in a few minutes, hours, days this will all melt away. I think, Is it even worth it? Of course it is! I mustn't think that the world is the way I think it is. Nice people tend to think that everyone is nice. We only expect the same we give. yikes, it sure doesn't work like that. A girl can dream, oh boy! I can understand why miserable people are so...well...not nice. But, I do get what I put into it, in a sense I guess. And I keep singing the same ol' songs...who knew, huh? oh my word, I'm not ready to face tomorrow, not just yet. Why should I let myself crush my wholesome fantasies? One day I'm going to hand food to starving children. I'm just like a little gradeschool girl. Right now I don't even care! Believe in the impossible. And I will wake up happy. Like jewel says. Misery came to visit her but she knew it wasn't forever. okay, she doesn';t exactly say it like that, hey this is my diary anways. why do I justify to myself. I am quite ridiculous. "And I'd like to stay that way!"