"everything means nothing"

the city sleeps in oblivious peace.
i want to blow it into oblivion.
i want it to feel the same way i feel on a daily basis.
the quiet lull
the calm before the storm
the heat before the winter
the last struggle
what is it all worth after all is said and done?
you and i were always the calm and the storm that follows.
i don't know what we are now.
i know that you want something that i just can't give to you.
i want to be happy, i want to feel normal.
but this just isn't right
and we'd be kidding ourselves if we tried to make it work.
i cannot function in perfection.
i always say that i want to be happy, but i always end up hurting myself.
i guess it's my body's way of protecting itself.
either that or the self-destruct button.
whichever works best.

i am still scared.
and you still don't care.
trying to keep a brave face for everyone else around me
doing my best to keep my cool when i'm totally not cool
trying to seem alright so you don't know that i'm freaking out
because you so obviously don't care.
it's not keeping me up at night anymore because i can't afford to lose sleep.
it's not making me cry anymore because i've run out of tears.
it's strange how one can grow used to hurting and being afraid.
how i can just go on with my life and pretend i'm alright.
but this, more than anything else that is happening in my life or has happened recently, is the single scariest thing in my mind.
and it's so much easier to just push it away.
it makes me want to make it even more now.
i want to do all of the things that i have dreamed about.
i want to make something of my life before it's over.
because that day seems like it's looming in the not-so-distant future.
i am so scared that each day will be my last.
so tired of doing the same shit that i do every day when i could be doing something great.
so frustrated that i'm stuck here, too afraid to voice my dreams, and not actually going after them, but just doing mundane tasks.
trying to speak out, but no one wants to listen.
trying to make myself heard, but there's no one around to hear.
i really know how to clear a room.
now more than ever, i either want to be normal or radically different.
i want my jar of dirt.
i want your heart next to mine, no matter how much i say that i don't.
i want to tell everyone everything that i think about them and not have to be afraid of the consequences.
more than anything, i want to live the rest of this life without being afraid.
no more fear of the past, of the future, of the present
of the inevitable, ever-present sense of death hanging over me
of what might happen if i did something
i'm tired of being a coward, of living behind this mask and costume
i could never play the hero, i could never do what bruce wayne does.
i'm sick of pretending that i'm the person you all want me to be.
NEWSFLASH: the only reason you like me is because i'm not who you all think i am.
i am not cool, calm, collected, strong, smart, pretty, whatever the fuck you all think. i am a scared, insane, selfish, dying little girl who just wants to curl up in bed and have her daddy chase the monsters away. i am a bad influence, a bad person in general. i am my own monster. i am the most insane person you will ever meet. or maybe i am the most sane person ever, and i am stuck in a loony bin, labelled as being too boring, too normal, too good to be true. i am running away from everything that you're all being herded towards, swimming against the crowd. i am godzilla and i am tokyo. "i am a treasure chest filled with trash."
the only thing i want is to stay home and make cookies all day. i want to watch ferris bueller's day off and aladdin until my eyes are aching and my head is reeling and my skin is pasty and my ears are falling off. i want to run away from what i am sure is the verdict in this court case life. i want to leave you all wondering, i want to make you all think. i want to be bigger than you ever imagined. i want to blow you away, and maybe i would like to be happy one day. or rather, maybe i will let myself be happy one day.
everything is only appearances. people only think that i am happy because they don't look deep enough. they see the friends, the family, the school, the clothes, the house, and they think, "well that girl might want some things, but she surely doesn't need much. she must be happy." well here's the truth: i never asked for any of this. i've never deserved this, and it's driving me insane living in this house, this neighborhood, with these fake and annoying people and pretending that i fit in. i am manic. i am on the verge of depression. i can probably be classified as clinically insane. but none of that matters, because i don't appear to be any of those things. i seem happy because i smile. i seem smart because i read. i don't seem needy because my parents are great providers. but they don't realize that i'm not happy, i'm not a genius, and that i'm a selfish little pig. i destroy everything that i come in contact with. i am the biggest train wreck you'll ever meet. and that's exactly what draws people to me like a fly is drawn to flypaper. i am a trap. and i'm sort of thankful, because no one wants to see the train that runs like it should. everyone wants to see a tragedy. but that's not really an invitation to look in through the windows of my sheltered house of glass.
i am repeating myself. i am contradicting myself.
i tell you to save me, then i tell you to fuck off. i can't make up my mind.
i wish someone would just tell me what i want, what i'm supposed to do. just like they used to when i was young.
i want to cry, but i'm too afraid you'll see. and we wouldn't want anyone to find out i'm human, would we?
but i know that the only people who will ever read this don't know me, don't care about me, probably won't even remember me. and that is my goal in life. i want you to remember me when i am gone.