5/12/16:1111am.
She count things, unsure if it has always been that way or if it has become a habit without her realising. The firsts, the seconds, thirds, until she loses count and god she hates when she does. The first time blood trickled down her arm, it only does when things got unbearable, same as it is with smoking. Soon scars filled her arms and the number of sticks of cigarettes she smoked she no longer bothers to count. There was a time where she counted her pills before swallowing all of them at once. She needed enough to hurt or pass out; not to die, though there were moments where she had hoped to. Now she can't recall the number of times she had. The only thing she remembers is how much it hurt and how she was when it happened or that she was alone most times.
Oh how she despises it when people so desperately convinces her that they could be trusted or that it will soon be okay. That they are there or will be or wouldn't mind being with her, when she knows they never really want to. "Nobody wants to be with a sad girl." It's simple. Well aware of how nobody really gives a fuck or wants to know. Everyone believes that they do and it's fine. Though she abhors how each time she meets someone she believes actually wants her around, she starts caring for them the way she wants to be cared for. She never minds if they don't. Still she chooses to stick around. Constantly believing how every single person needs another- I guess she always did try to be what they needed however knows, they never do need anyone like her. Then again perhaps that they do. Even so, she's barely ever what people would favour once they get to know or go through it all with her. She knows she does the same. Nevertheless she isn't always with people anyways and she clears it with people of where they stand in her life. How could she have the heart to lie?
Oh how she despises it when people so desperately convinces her that they could be trusted or that it will soon be okay. That they are there or will be or wouldn't mind being with her, when she knows they never really want to. "Nobody wants to be with a sad girl." It's simple. Well aware of how nobody really gives a fuck or wants to know. Everyone believes that they do and it's fine. Though she abhors how each time she meets someone she believes actually wants her around, she starts caring for them the way she wants to be cared for. She never minds if they don't. Still she chooses to stick around. Constantly believing how every single person needs another- I guess she always did try to be what they needed however knows, they never do need anyone like her. Then again perhaps that they do. Even so, she's barely ever what people would favour once they get to know or go through it all with her. She knows she does the same. Nevertheless she isn't always with people anyways and she clears it with people of where they stand in her life. How could she have the heart to lie?
Counting the people she gets to know, met, gone out with or would; finding it hard to believe how she reached a point where she could. She never wants to throw herself away to just anyone, nevertheless she is weak for whoever that cares or gives a bit more attention and affection. Her mistake is believing people are sincere when they only intend to receive something in return. She knows better but despite everything she has went through, as much as she would like to deny it, she knows not everyone's rotten. Even if to everyone else, they are. No matter how bad there's always if not at least a hint of good hidden or buried in them that no one has ever got the chance to see because nobody ever gave them a chance to show it. Then again, it depends.
Wanting to make everyone she chooses to let in, count, but she has ruined that and lost track of the amount of people she had. She doesn't want to be with just anyone. Some days she has got none and the ones who were there would rather be somewhere else so she goes with anyone she so helplessly suppose she could get along with or knows want something from her with hopes that she doesn't have to give it. Ending up getting a bit too physically close to a complete stranger- what she would never do but has done or is starting to. Everything she talked of or predicted to happen while she was in school, is happening. Becoming everything she jokingly said she would; she did this to herself. Even if she never cared, she could learn to give a shit and accept what she is given but she knows most of the people she gets with, doesn't. Each time she feels emptier after.
She enjoys the company if it gives her comfort, even if deep inside she acknowledges how tomorrow this would mean nothing more. Memory distorted although often from time to time the feelings come back. She feels so much without even thinking. People still get a bit confuse over it when she talks about it. It's true, these days she doesn't remember or overthink the way she did when she was 13. Even so she feels everything. Loathing how because of this she isn't always able to commemorate the good times but when looking through photos, or passing by things that reminds her of it. Always getting the advantage to feel like she does when things were fucked. Feelings are the only thing she remembers so well of. She has lost count once more of the many times she has screwed herself over by deciding to get out of her solitude and becoming more human with all these random beings.
Wanting to make everyone she chooses to let in, count, but she has ruined that and lost track of the amount of people she had. She doesn't want to be with just anyone. Some days she has got none and the ones who were there would rather be somewhere else so she goes with anyone she so helplessly suppose she could get along with or knows want something from her with hopes that she doesn't have to give it. Ending up getting a bit too physically close to a complete stranger- what she would never do but has done or is starting to. Everything she talked of or predicted to happen while she was in school, is happening. Becoming everything she jokingly said she would; she did this to herself. Even if she never cared, she could learn to give a shit and accept what she is given but she knows most of the people she gets with, doesn't. Each time she feels emptier after.
She enjoys the company if it gives her comfort, even if deep inside she acknowledges how tomorrow this would mean nothing more. Memory distorted although often from time to time the feelings come back. She feels so much without even thinking. People still get a bit confuse over it when she talks about it. It's true, these days she doesn't remember or overthink the way she did when she was 13. Even so she feels everything. Loathing how because of this she isn't always able to commemorate the good times but when looking through photos, or passing by things that reminds her of it. Always getting the advantage to feel like she does when things were fucked. Feelings are the only thing she remembers so well of. She has lost count once more of the many times she has screwed herself over by deciding to get out of her solitude and becoming more human with all these random beings.
She doesn't care that they don't take her as seriously, give a shit or even sees the worth in her- though it doesn't make it hurt any less. Then again if it's her own doing then "whatever", she thinks; she doesn't mind. It's not like she's here all the time. Soon she would forget to care too, she would think. So it's alright. If she could make it easy for everyone and make them at least a tinsy winsy bit happier, she could be a bit more too, even if not for long or awhile despite when or if she is as sad as she won't admit as long as she doesn't make anyone else feel the same way she does. Unfortunately she does, unwillingly, subconsciously.
In the past she found meaning in almost everything.
These days at times she still does,
but it feels like just another lie at some point.
but it feels like just another lie at some point.
-riri-
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