27/10/2007

So today I met with my shrink. I feel sorry for the guy. He thinks he can figure me out. Every time I go sit on his stupid uncomfortable couch, watching him stare me down and write in his small diary, I can't help pitying the dude. Well, I pity my foster parents more because they're paying for this session that has no use.

Hmm... But I guess I should pity him more because he's stuck with me. Well anyway, he started off with some basic questions about how I was doing at my home and how I was feeling. Kind of stupid really... I had a chronic case of depression. Why else would I be here?

"You're writing that diary like I asked you to?" he asked all of a sudden.

"Well, yeah... Not regularly though."

"As long as you're taking the initiative," he replied.

"I don't have to show it to you now do I?" I asked kind of worried.

"Oh no. Consider it just a medium to vent all of your pent up feelings."

Pent up feelings eh? Right. That's exactly what I'm going to do. I'll be writing about all the stupid things you say to me most of the times and how I pitied you. I do get the idea of writing in a diary and all. It's fun sometimes. But then again, I don't really see it helping me much.

Most of the times, I get much more depressed and upset with myself when I read my own diary entries. I wonder how someone else would take all this. I sure hope it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. Someone might commit suicide if he or she took it to heart.

There's some awfully depressing stuff in it. I know... I'm the one writing it after all. Well, the meeting with my shrink wasn't that bad. Compared to the chaos and stupidity of school, I'd rather take on the shrink's quiet office any day.

I still remember clearly how yesterday Suzy cried over the fact that someone spilled some water on her. I was like, "Seriously? It's just water. Not like it's an acid burning you down to the bone or something". I guess it was a good thing that I didn't say that out loud. Didn't want to be in any more trouble than usual.

Besides... Walking around in a girl's clothing once was enough for me. Oh yeah. I never wrote that down now did I? It was like last month or something. Like usual, Brian and his gang were after me. I really don't understand what they gain from hurting the weak. Maybe some kind of sick satisfaction for their insecure lives or something.

Anyway, there I was running around school with them at my heels and I end up walking into the girls' locker room. Thank God it was empty at that time. In order to ditch them, I came up with a great plan and stole some of the clothes the girls left in their lockers. When I say clothes, just a skirt really.

I don't know if it was just luck, fate or some weird crazy fetish of some girl, I even found a wig in one of the lockers. So I came out with stupid lip stick painting my lips red, eye liners, eye shadows and all that crap plastered to my face along with the fake blonde hair on my head.

Don't ask where I got the make-up. It was a girls' locker room after all. I thanked my stars that I had practiced make up for becoming a Goth. Yeah... I should write about that someday too. And that's the story of how James gave birth to Jamie.

I know it sounds awkward. But that's how I felt walking around in a skirt. I know I did a great job because I saw Brian giving me a creepy look and almost drooling as I walked past him. Well... anything that saves me from a beating is good enough.

Jeez. I can't believe I just wrote that in here. But then again, no one's going to read this so I guess it's going to be okay. Anyway, life's hard and never really fair. I can't believe people crib and cry over the little things when there are obviously others having a lot more to deal with on their plates.

But then again, everyone considers their troubles as the greatest in the world. I'm sure that Suzy thought that way too. I remember how she cried again and again over the fact that her dress was all wet and it wasn't fair. And I remember little Duke from next door crying about his broken toy.

Maybe I should also mention Brian saying it wasn't fair that he couldn't catch me. Whatever the case, everyone's got their problems and most think they've got it the hardest. I wonder if there's a soul alive that'll hear my troubles. I guess not.

Maybe I'll write another poem like last time. An Elegy to Thought surely was a complicated piece. I think I'll keep it simple this time. I've even got a great title... "Life's not Fair". Yup. Sure is a good one if you ask me. But then again... Who really asks for my opinion?