Alone, ignored, forgotten.

Last Saturday, I accidentally left my cell phone at home. It sat on my bed, on, for hours. Guess how many calls I got.

None.

Not a single phone call. If that isn't depressing, I don't know what is. It obviously shows that I have no friends, at least none that think about me. In fact, I haven't had any incoming calls that weren't from my parents or my grandmother since the twenty-second. Well, I'm going to go sit in the corner now, if anyone needs me...

Life is like a boat, holey and sinking.

Sometimes, I wish I were an animal. Animals are expected to survive on instinct. They also travel mostly in packs, so they're never lonely.

I wish I were a bat, living in a cave with my bat-family, eating fruit and bugs and sleeping during the day. I hate sleeping at night. Bats live in groups of thousands, and no one is ever forgotten or alone. But with my luck, I'd be a wolf. A lone, grey wolf.

At least I'd be on top of the food chain.

Can you see me?

I feel so ignored.

Its not just that I feel ignored, I am ignored. At school, in my ever-empty home, even by people I thought were my friends. He has been ignoring me all week. I didn't get to see him last weekend, and I probably won't get to see him this weekend either. He's just too busy.

Everyone is busy.

I've never got anything to do, so I just do nothing. Its boring. I'm always home alone, I could have a party, but I just don't know that many people.

I need something to occupy my time.

I think its time to start something.

Promiscuous and the current news.

pro·mis·cu·ous –adjective
1.
characterized by or involving indiscriminate mingling or association, esp. having sexual relations with a number of partners on a casual basis.
2.
consisting of parts, elements, or individuals of different kinds brought together without order.
3.
indiscriminate; without discrimination.
4.
casual; irregular; haphazard.

I met someone this weekend. Technically, I'm not available, not really. I flirted anyway. He's eight years older than I am. He has my number.
I'm pretty sure that I may end up seeing him again, though I'm not sure if its because I want to or because I have the urge to do something that I normally wouldn't. I hope not.

I met him in the video store next to my dad's bike shop. The guy that works there is an overstuffed peacock and a pompus ass. But he does give me discounts on new releases sometimes, so I suppose he's alright.

My hair is red now. It used to be blondish, but I dyed it. So now its red.

I wanted black. My mum said that it was out of the question, but I chose the darkest red possible.

The hairdresser thinks I look like her now, but I won't let it bother me. In my heart, I know I'll always look more like dad.

I'm reading a book on the history and tradition of ninjutsu. It's actually quite interesting. Maybe I'll try and take karate lessons or something. Scathing wit and bad social skills won't protect me forever, and I'm only a year away from entering the real world, though one could argue that I've always sort of been on the cusp of it. I don't believe in the real world; its like Santa and God, only existing to those who believe it exists.
I believe in Santa Claus. Faeries and magic, too. Because magic really does exist, and the things that live in your closet and under your bed are going to get you if you don't watch out for them.

So turn out your light, close your eyes, and pray that they aren't hungry.

Tears for fears.

I cried last night. I'm not sure why.

I was up too late, and my mum got mad. I was on the laptop, mum took it. I'll find it in the normal place, I know it. But that doesn't change the fact that I cried.

I cried.

I cried.
That doesn't happen to me. When I cry, I don't acknowledge it. I ignore it, it goes away, and no one bothers me.

Last night, I saw myself.
I passed by my mirror and I saw my face. Little red eyes, a blotchy face, tear tracks.
I never look like that. Not ever.
I don't want to look like that, to be the type of person who lets her emotions run rampant. I'm not that kind of person. Nothing I ever say or show is real. I fake it, only so my family and friends don't worry. I need to put on a happy face, or I'll ruin everything. There are only a few people in this world that have seen me with my guard down, and I can count them on one hand. I love them all dearly, but none of them are really around anymore.

I'm lonely.

Love me, love me.

I want to fall in love.

I want to fall in love so badly it hurts. Not just ordinary, high school romance love, I want to fall for someone so completely that I physically hurt when they're not around. I want to be all twisted up inside, confused about everything, never knowing where I stand. I want to only know that I'm in love, and I want that to be the only thing that matters.

I want to fall in love so badly that it hurts, and maybe I won't feel so hollow anymore.

First post of the rest of my life

I am Untouchable. I distance myself from the world so that I can breathe. People scare me as much as I scare them, but as long as they keep their distance, I don't mind.

I don't want to be Untouchable.

I don't want to have to hide who I am, to hide how I feel. I want to feel, not just feel alone.
I don't want to be afraid anymore.

Please, I beg of you, don't hate me for who I once was, love me for who I may become.

Thank you, and goodnight.