driving home i put the windows down and drove too fast, i was scared. thinking it over, i felt like deer in the headlights, that i just couldn't open up to you, or just wasn't being Me. i'm just so tired tired tired of working and working and working, feel like i screwed myself over the first week, i didn't know it was going to be this hard. worried bc of college and the best part was just listening to you talk about modernism. i guess it's because i don't trust easily, i don't open up. i haven't cried in months because i won't even open up to myself. then how can i to you? how can i expect that of myself? i feel like modernism, everything is true to a point, making realizations while writing about this. it feels so. good. to write. it feels good to take warm showers with soap that feels good, it feels so. good to write and cry. to put on pajamas and i called my mom in the car, slowed down so i didn't kill myself. it's hard to change things about yourself when you're constantly being reminded of the damage you've done, your fuckups. but she made me feel okay, because it is all about grades right now. the work is hard. i explained it to you, that highschool is great without the work. i told you i loved the classes and that i actually loved the people in them. it/s just i study during every break and free period. i haven't been in the pagoda since the first week of school; if i could i'd just sit there and play cards and talk all day. but i can't. is my strength my weakness? is being so focused killing me, because i know i have to be, because i don't want to regret? i don't want to regret. i feel better with warm clothes, knowing i can sleep. i needed to write this, because i haven't been writing because everyday i wake up at six, an hour early than i need to, so i can get to school and study. i am in class every period, sometimes i have one free, but i'm in the library doing work, meeting with teachers, making up work, trying to keep up, trying to get ahead. feeling like it's never enough, i need to get a's in every class. need. because i want to get the fuck out of here. sometimes i think i'm more worried than i need to be, but no. this year is IT.

i never talk to anyone about things like this; so it's really hard for me to open up to anyone, especially you.

i was standing in my room, after taking a shower, just breathing and it just came to me, and now it makes me laugh a little because she is the center of your senior page and i don't need to think about this anymore. i still have the sensation i just want to be held, just want to fall asleep next to someone, be held and be calm. but that's the point, it's not having the work, it'd be nice to r-e-l-a-x, and nicer to share the nice side of me with them. the calm, relax, interesing katie. but see, not necessarily you. i guess you're just convenient, and i feel like i know you more than anyone, and that makes me feel okay. you wanted to know what made me tick, tonight you wanted to know my world, to know who made it up. it was so difficult to feel so boring, i normally have so much going on and it's just been school and swimming. and so standing in the middle of the floor feeling clean, and Blank. it just came to me. and i know it's not perfect, or the right word but it IS, whether it's of someone or god or life.

it would be pretty brilliant if you fell in love with my weaknesses.


-------------------------------------
archive. profile. notes. random.