From what've happened the last week and a half, I've come to the conclusion I better not talk with people. I better not care about people. I better just stay alone. Whenever I care, when I show I care, when I tell them I care, the same thing happens. "She cares about me, then she must like me, be in love with me." But I'm not, I seldom am, but I do care, and now I worry. Crushed. Torn apart. Sad. Sorry. Disappointed. Because of me.
Hello new life, hello isolation.
About Me
- Isbit
- I'm that girl, you know? Some old ladies come up to me in the store to tell me they adore my trench-coat, other old ladies look at me and whisper things about the Devil's child. Some would say I'm a vampire that likes garlic, some would say I'm disguisting. And the spike I've got through my left ear pokes my friends in their eye when they hug me.
I'm a messy person, a somewhat crazy person. I want to climb Mount Everest. I've shown up not entierly sober in school to talk with my principal about my failing phys. ed. grade. I'm obsessed with aquarium fishes and cute ghosts. And PacMan. Sometime in 2007 I got the idea that I wanted to go abroad for a year. To study. So I did. I ended up in a fairly small town in the middle of nowhere in Canada, and found I kinda like it here. Also, I draw. And have a serious problem with not going to sleep at night.
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