And they say Mondays are bad

I can't breathe. I can't sleep. I've been a corpse for awhile now. Laying in my coffin, gathering dust, just another piece of nothingness that will eventually be decomposed by worms, who will love me, just because they only care about your taste.

Dad thinks I'm depressed.

I don't know, I probably am. Hermit crabs turn weak when their shells grow to small for them. I just lost my shell.

And I think that sometimes, maybe I can get away with living without one for awhile, that maybe I'll find a rock that will provide me with some shade, something, anything to keep me from this sun, but you can't escape something that large, something that powerful, something that magnificent. You can't escape your everything when you're as tiny as a snail.

How weird. The sun being your everything, and one day it could explode and really be your only thing, the only thing between you and death.

Water, yeah, you can't live without it, but how fast it can become your enemy.

I think a lot. A lot about nothing and everything and things that maybe just bring me down.

He got a girlfriend. Someone that isn't me.

IT KNOCKED THE WIND OUT OF ME WHEN I FOUND OUT. I shouldn't even care really, but I do and it's flabbergasting me that I'm not number one anymore.

He still talked to me like he liked me, still talked to me like he cared. Or so I thought.

I guess when you want something bad enough you let yourself think everything in the world to make that thing more tangible.

He's slipping right through my fingers.

'I don't try because I do care, Kasey. You seem like you don't want this, so I GAVE UP. You know how I feel about you'

MMM, could have fooled me when you were frolicking with that hit bitch. And I shouldn't even call her that, because in all honesty, she's nice and she isn't ugly. The more I look at her the more I think she's prettier than I am and then I spaz out.

And then I go and tell myself that the only reason he's dating her is to fucck her, and that gives me a chuckle and I breathe for awhile.

He's really not even that great. But there is something about flaws that I'm attracted to. One of those 'fix em up n change em' types. A project, a challenge. Whatever. I need to stop being a baby.

I pierced my septum last night with a sewing needle, it didn't hurt then but God does it hurt now. Sore to the touch, I feel like crying, at least now I'll have a legit reason to.

Not to mention I'm hungry.
And tired, boy is insomnia riding my ass these days.