Post by Phoenix Cecile on Jul 21, 2006 16:17:32 GMT -5
[shadow=red,left,300]Keep Out[/shadow]
Here I am again, writing in this stupid peice of shit notebook. Why do I even bother! Not one thing that I think should ever be put into words or on paper. Yet I come back day after day to fill its pages once more. If anyone were to ever find this laying around, I would have to kill them. Even if they didn't read it, I can't take the chance. The secrets that I pour into the crisp white paper, are to never been seen by any one elses eyes but my own.
People think they understand me. They don't, I finally got rid of that stupid woman. That one that strangely looked like a crow, awh awh. What was that stupid woman called again, oh yes a Therapist. Why the hell did they lock me in some loon bin with that woman? I am not crazy, I don't have issues. Why can't people understand that[/b]?!?! They think they know my pain, or how I think. They are all so wrong! They are the ones that are sick for even trying to imagine what I think. What images I have seen in my life. Every single one of them.
Sometimes I wonder, why I even live another day. Then I remember, oh yeah, I have a million reasons. Just to cause others pain, that is what I am. A thorn in everyones ass. I get shuffled from family to family, I get shuffled from school to school. What are they going to do to me when there are no more? They wouldn't dare release me into the muggle world. Oh no, I know too much already. I know too many secrets. Too many to keep in my mind, so many that I must pour a little bit of myself into this notebook every night.
I guess this will never change. I will forever be ensnarred by secrets and my own life. Caged off from others, and people wonder why I have no friends. Or why I twist lyrics when I sing. Try living in my shoes, I feel as if I have been living forever. No one knows what its like to kill their mom when they were a child. No one understands!
-Phoenix Cecile
[/color][/size]
Here I am again, writing in this stupid peice of shit notebook. Why do I even bother! Not one thing that I think should ever be put into words or on paper. Yet I come back day after day to fill its pages once more. If anyone were to ever find this laying around, I would have to kill them. Even if they didn't read it, I can't take the chance. The secrets that I pour into the crisp white paper, are to never been seen by any one elses eyes but my own.
People think they understand me. They don't, I finally got rid of that stupid woman. That one that strangely looked like a crow, awh awh. What was that stupid woman called again, oh yes a Therapist. Why the hell did they lock me in some loon bin with that woman? I am not crazy, I don't have issues. Why can't people understand that[/b]?!?! They think they know my pain, or how I think. They are all so wrong! They are the ones that are sick for even trying to imagine what I think. What images I have seen in my life. Every single one of them.
Sometimes I wonder, why I even live another day. Then I remember, oh yeah, I have a million reasons. Just to cause others pain, that is what I am. A thorn in everyones ass. I get shuffled from family to family, I get shuffled from school to school. What are they going to do to me when there are no more? They wouldn't dare release me into the muggle world. Oh no, I know too much already. I know too many secrets. Too many to keep in my mind, so many that I must pour a little bit of myself into this notebook every night.
I guess this will never change. I will forever be ensnarred by secrets and my own life. Caged off from others, and people wonder why I have no friends. Or why I twist lyrics when I sing. Try living in my shoes, I feel as if I have been living forever. No one knows what its like to kill their mom when they were a child. No one understands!
-Phoenix Cecile
[/color][/size]
