cloze creation story

Where to start?

Well, Iapos;m afraid my journal isnapos;t going to be much of a laugh for the next little while.

Today I feel like talking about my struggle with SA.

Yeah, I know that sounds a bit infomercial-esque, but ah well.

I donapos;t think anybody really believes me. They donapos;t get that Iapos;m not just shy.

"What? No you donapos;t. Youapos;re just shy, thatapos;s all."

And you wonder why I donapos;t like to talk to people?

It gets worse during the school year.

SA being Social Anxiety, btw.

I didnapos;t realize it until now, that it gets worse during school, I mean.

Everytime I get sick (which happens quite frequently), I get scared to go back to school.

Right about now I really, really hate school.

Iapos;m tempted to just drop out of highschool and finish via correspondence.

My grades would probably be alot better, actually.

I miss too much school to have good grades. Plain and simple.

And I really hate highschool.

I have friends. I think.

I think people like me.

But I donapos;t like me.

Iapos;d much rather everyone just forgot about me.

I know I spend alot of time whining about how Iapos;ll never find myself a half decent guy who thinks Iapos;m a half decent girl, but it isnapos;t until I get like I am now, this current state of mind, that I realize I donapos;t like people enough. I donapos;t like myself enough.

Iapos;ve been home for the past 2~ weeks. But I was at school on Friday even though I was still sick.. And of course I felt even worse when I got home.

I have been sick, really. I havenapos;t been faking it.

But I think part of the reason Iapos;m not recovering very quickly is because Iapos;m so terrified of going back there.

Subconsciously making myself sick, I guess?

I think that maybe, somehow, boys can tell how unstable I am. Like a 6th sense.

Women have their intuition, boys have their.. Freak radar?

Thatapos;s what I feel like right now, a freak.

I hate myself.

Sometimes Iapos;m rather apathetic when it comes to how I feel about myself, but Iapos;ve never loved myself, nor have I ever felt like anyone truly loved me.

I hate it.

Maybe if I had some sort of a connection to the outside world, to everyone around me, I wouldnapos;t stay locked up in my room for days, delving into other, make believe worlds.

Books, movies, and video games. Iapos;ve never had a truer friend.

Things that are meant to entertain turn into my companions.

Might be why Iapos;m such a bloody packrat. I get attached to things.

Might be why I go absolutely berserk when anyone messes with my stuff, or heaven forbid, go into my room and move things around.

I wouldnapos;t go so far as to say that Iapos;m lonely, but something to that effect. Unloved, I guess.

Maybe why I donapos;t seek out companionship with people, at least not in the real world, is because I donapos;t know if I can trust it.

In the end, companionship is so meaningless to me. Why? Because I find myself constantly thinking, "No one loves me."

I donapos;t mean Romeo Juliet style of love either, just caring for me, truly and deeply and.. I donapos;t know.

I really didnapos;t want to show Ralph my blog, I mean I suppose I did, but now I wish I hadnapos;t.

I liked to have some place to dispose of my word vomit, with the hopes that someone somewhere would read it, without ever actually having to worry about what they might think.

Now I have to deal with Ralphapos;s reaction.

I hope he forgets about my blog.

Iapos;m not about to go out and make another bloody blog just so I can remain anonymous.

Too lazy, too tired.

Too attached.

Iapos;m stuck in a rut, ladyapos;s and gentlemen. Stuck in a fucking rut.

- M
cloze creation story.