stressed so, i come here, i sit in this cubical of solitude called a 'bedroom' and i stare at the ceiling. the endless chaos that runs my everyday life is let outside adn is not permitted a seat on the lumpy peice of wheatever makes up a mattress. this room seems to empty, but at the same time too full. not of materialistic things, of feeling, and individuality. even though i am my own person, i feel like i'm just on of the crowd, pulled along by only threads of my mortality and thought. even though my opinions are my own, no one seems to listen and after a while, the depression of the nothingness seems to fill this place with such hate, such frustration, and such lonelyness. i've never once had someone i could completely trust (with the exception of like 3 but even then, i'm talking about same sex wise) the female race is made up of creatures only fending for themselves and only that, yet when it comes to trust and happiness, it relys on the insecurites and sadness of others to keep them afloat, giving everyone they come past the "wrong impression" i, my self, have never taken joy in these activites adn i never wish to start, sure the idea in its self seems pretty interesting, but the action alone seems too inhumane, too cruel for even the most sickened mind to conduct. when you see someone causing someone else emotional pain, it eats at your insides, only because you know and you can feel the unhappienss of both parties. sure, the person committing the crime seems pretty happy, but lets face it, no one sick enought to use ones emotions AGIANST them, it's just sick and wrong. that is why i do not consider on of my previously closer friends a friend perse any more, only because she took advantage fo a moment, in which she too the personal things adn made them public. doesn't life suck hard sometimes? eek
CryOutloUD_13 Community Member 
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Community Member