the thoughts are always there and the constant wondering of my mind about things i shouldnt even be thinking about anymore and add up all of the stupid behavior and the stupid mistakes and the stupid things ive said for the past few months and what does it all mean? am i truly unrepairable. can i ever change and even if i do happen to change what will i become? anything better or just constantly this thing that continues to grow worse no matter how bad id like to be better inside and out and i just cant seem to get a grip on it all. poetry or not poetry it hurts when theres no one near or around or even in the distance to care to see you come around the corner or to know youre still alive. and i hate the fact i cant get useless people off of my useless mind because deep down inside i dont even really care i just need something else to focus on because if there isnt anything else then my mind thinks about me and all the things in the past all coming up and hitting me over the head like the bright blue bruise i put on my own arm and basically forgot that i took a small amount of pleasure in hurting myself because when i think about her and all those feelings the only thing i want to do is kick and scream and hit and bite and yell at the top of my lungs about how fucking sorry i am to everyone and especially her and myself because i couldve made it all easier. i hate rambling like this because my diary is nothing but repetition and annoying over used words because i cant seem to take the time to find new words or new emotions to portray and i want to be ready and ready and ready for change but how in the hell do you begin to be someone else when all you know is this one self. i push too hard all of the time like a train through a wall of stone pushing and pushing and pushing and refusing to back down a moment to back up a moment and see the larger picture and feel the larger feeling. i wont remain this way because i refuse to be what i was before and back then in those days when i had my broken foot and sat around getting high all day and snorting lines for hours and as soon as he walked out the door i practically begged him to come back and i wish i could just explain that it wasnt meant to be so smothering or obsessive or love or liking or a need for a relationship or anything of such a lame nature but i dont didnt and never will deal well with being all alone and i never ever ever like the party to end because no matter how sober and straight i like to pretend i can be i always enjoy the end of my sobriety because some of us are meant to get by by getting high and i enjoy the feeling of staring off into space and not giving a fuck whether or not i wake up the next day or staying away for days on end just relaxing and thinking and being and feeling younger then i should. god i miss the drugs the drinking the laughs and the hating i had for all those people around me. i miss them each for different stupid obsessive reasons. i miss getting by.