This Isn't Good.

Tonight, I feel like I could die.

I hate my family.

Fucking Frustrated

I feel to bottled up right now. Like I have all these pieces that belong somewhere but I can't find the right pieces that fit together. I'm so fucking sick of it. I'm so tired of feeling like I need to cry, but I can't cry, which only makes me angrier. I'm so tired of feeling like I KNOW someday I'll be famous, but it's just right out of my reach, just beyond my grasp, and I struggle to reach it, and it's right there, but it's laughing at me. And it jumps out of my clutches every time I almost have it. I'm tired of people hating me. I'm tired of hating people. I'm tired of being fat, and being told that I'm not, but knowing that deep down I am. I'm tired of hating myself but not wanting to die. It's like I'm in a fucking Mexican Standoff. I can't sit here and do nothing but that's ALL I can do.

And there's this little fucking voice inside of me screaming, "You can control this! Stop! Think! Breathe! You're unstable! Give yourself a second and it'll all be okay." I don't have the patience to give myself that second, because that second is actually three years away, six years away, forever a-fucking-way, I don't want to wait.

I was happy, and there was this little voice inside my mind saying, "Be careful. This happiness won't last, and you know it. It always goes away." And I just brushed it off because I was basking in my happiness. But that's gone. And now I sit every day, feeling as if there's a knot inside of me that needs to be untied, but no one knows how to untie it and until someone comes along, it's just stuck. It's just fucking stuck. And that's what I am right now. I'm stuck. I'm fifteen. I have no life. I'm on probation. I can't do drugs, I can't party, I don't have friends who like to party. I want fame. But fame is for the people with sob-stories. I don't have a sob-story. I'm just Savannah Fucking Hill. Savannah Fucking Hill who expresses herself with music that I didn't write, with stories that I didn't write, with everything that's not mine.

I'm so pissed all the time that I'm dangerous. I don't want to die, but that pisses me off more because all I can do is sit here and wish things would get better. Wish wish wish. FUCKING WISH. I don't want to die, because then there will always be 'what-ifs', but I'm always queasy, because I KNOW there's more out there. More that's unattainable to me. FUCK. I'M SO FRUSTRATED I JUST WANNA SCREAM AT EVERYONE. I wanna punch shit and kick shit and hurt people but there's no one I can do that to, and if I did I'd get arrested. I'm just stuck. I'm stuck. I feel like I'll always be stuck. Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

God Hates Me

Yes, it's official. God has officially decided to disown me as one of his creations. I'm no longer Savannah the human, but Savannah (That-Thing-That-I-Can't-Kill-Off-For-Some-Reason-That-Is-Only-Known-By-Me).

I've had such a hard fucking time with people, being accepted and loved and all. I just wish I could die so I wouldn't have to fucking deal with people.

The person that I felt the most for in this world left me on my ass, and now I have to act like I'm okay so he doesn't pester me. He doesn't understand things, I don't think. I act fine during the day but it totally comes out at night, and I feel like I can't control it. I can't STAND it.

Sad music is the only thing that doesn't remind me of him right now. I want so much to hurt myself, but I won't do it.

I think I'll learn new piano music.