Side effects of starting again

Sunday June 12: do you ever feel like the world is made of paper. Like everything and everyone, even your closest friends are two dime rational and fake. I feel that way. My friends from school only talk about hair color and how happy they are, but happy isn't real. I read books about fairytales and see movies about princesses, but that's not life. Life is crying, pain, breaking down in your bedroom, occasionally happiness and chaos. That's what's real. This world is paper. The thing is, some things look like paper, but they aren't. Like me. I Look like paper, but inside I'm real, and more of than what's on the surface. Some paper is simply denser than other paper. People like me, we are like origami. We are still technically paper, but we are molded into something that has meaning. Sometimes we are even molded into beautiful things and sometimes horrible things, but have you ever noticed, how origami, no matter the shape, is bound to unfold at some point. Do you understand? I saw a movie about magic and deception tonight, except it wasn't. They did something bad to benefit the greater good. The thing I came to is though, no matter how much benefit it brings, what they did was still illegal, and they will still be arrested if caught. People don't take into account the greater good nowadays. They see what's wrong. Sometimes I think we are turning into robots, programmed to see on,y what we want, and program others to believe what we want them to. The greater good doesn't work now because instead of seeing the greater good, people tend to see the lesser evil. It's different. A lesser evil still isn't for the better, a greater good is. That's the problem. People don't feel anymore, they think, and as I have said before, it is our thoughts that destroy us.

Saturday June 18:
Today I'm 13, but I don't care very much. I'm happy but not thrilled. I'm excited but not overly. That's the problem. I used to say one step forward two steps back, but now I think it's one step forward one step back. At least if you move backwards your moving. I'm just staying still. Sorry I didn't write, but I had nothing to say. I'm not at home now. I'm in Connecticut getting ready to drive to my summer intensive tomarrow. That's the thing. Texas isn't really home either. I don't know where home is yet. Texas is familiarity. Some people find comfort in that, and I love my house, don't get me wrong, but it isn't home. Saying that familiarity is the same thing as comfort is wrong. Like if you are often depressed, the feeling is familiar, but it will never bring you comfort. Somebody almost saw this journal today. It made me realize how even though I feel like I'm getting stronger, I'm not because I'm not ready for anyone to see it, and I don't want a single soul to know. I'm not ready. I'm glad I go to summer camp tomarrow though. Although I will miss my family, I'm glad to get away from people I know because I don't have a reputation already. No one knows me, and they will only know what I tell them. That's good. I can be whoever I want to be and no one will know otherwise. It's kind of funny how people are so different depending on where they are. In Texas, at school I am much different than I am at dance. I don't mix school and dance, so everybody only knows me as the side of me they've met. Some things are the same though, like I'm relatively shy, care about my appearance, etc. I'm bored right now. Right at this very moment. 10:59 eastern time on Saturday June 18 I am bored. It's crazy how people changes in seconds. What if at 11:02 I'm not bored anymore. Feelings change but people don't. I will be same person when I wake up tomarrow at 8:52 am that I am right now at 11:00. See I told you. It's 11:02 at this very second and guess what. I'm not bored. I'm lost in thought. It's almost like s transe. I'm literally so lost that reality doesn't even seem to be a concept. That's why my grammar is so bad. I'm so lost that my brain thinks faster than itself. No let me rephrase that. My heart thinks faster than my head and my fingers just can't keep up. I'm not in real life. I'm in something even more true than reality if that even exists. I know it does because I'm in it. Some people go over the rainbow, but I go below the surface. I feel like this place I'm in is the center of the earth where all the greatest truths are belt. The hard truths. The sad ones too. That's where I am. The thing is, you won't find me there. Whoever is reading this probably doesn't understand, because if someone is, then they don't need me to say my thoughts, they have there own. Maybe someone will find me there, but that's the thing about this special place. As soon as you find me, it disappears.

July 4 2016: I feel like I'm in a bubble, like I don't feel at all. I'm numb. I, confused and lost and I want to feel again even if what I feel again is pain. Sorry I didn't write, but I couldn't because I was at camp. I'm touching things, but I don't feel them. I'm seeing and hearing, but not understanding. I'm at the point of emotional exhaustion where it is physically draining to do so much as to eat a sandwich. I can't keep doing this anymore. You should know what this is by now. It's sad actually. Then again how would I know. I don't feel. It's almost like being blind or deaf. Almost like a disability or an impairment. You know something is wrong when someone physically can not feel anymore. Actually it's not that I don't feel it, it's that I don't know when I do. Feelings to me are like when you wake up from a dream, and you only remember certain parts of the dream, while others are just blank. Like you can't really make out the details. Like I know I'm feeling but I'm not sure what. I'm breaking. I can feel it. I know the one thing o feel is pain even though I don't want to feel it. But as John green said, that's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt. Just like he says, we are all just side effects in this world, but no one really knows what we are side effects of. Actually, I think some people do. People like me. People who aren't the least bit lovely, who are only sometimes kind, who know that recognizing imperfection is important, and people who know that thoughts are fatal. That's what we are side effects of. We are nothing but side effects of our thoughts. We are side effects of our own depths while our own depths are side effects of nothing but the soul itself. I need to go to sleep now, but as you know, I would have much more to say. I'm just too physically exhausted to say it.

July 10: I haven't been writing because I thought that if I didn't write I wouldn't have to awknolege what I felt. Too late. Tonight I want to tell you about smiles. I don't always like smiles. Smiles are fake. Laughs are real. A smile can be devilish. It can be still made in the saddest of times. Laughs can't. But I'm not here to tell you about happiness. I'm here to tell you about my feelings, and as you should know, happiness usually isn't in these sentences. I feel as if the world is made of paper. Too delicate for a real person to handle. People think that real this are happy but they aren't. Real things feel all. Maybe I look fake, but you know that the thing about being real is, you can't tell from the outside. Just like gold plated things vs pure gold. Both things contain gold just like both people contain blood except you can't really tell which is which until you look inside. Real is sadness and pain with sometimes a teeny tiny bit of glitter thrown in. The problem is, some people think that adding more glitter will just cover up the despair and depression inside but really it makes it worse. If you put glitter on top of garbage it doesn't make it smell better. The thing is, remember when I told you about that little speck of tricking hope. That's what that sparkle is. Too much makes it worse. People are mean no matter how nice you are to them. No matter how much you want someone to care it doesn't mean they will. Perfect people are always hiding something deeper of they're fake. That's the reality of it. Someone I love very much once told me this: you must try your best to dance gracefully to the moon. I think it's a valid thing to say, but I have a little thing I'd like to add. Everyone is trying their best to dance to the moon in grace, but most fall because they fail to remember that first we are not dancers. First we are human. People are raising robots training them only to look toward the future and to work toward something and never stop. They are creating monsters. What about teaching people to feel and to express. We forget to be human sometimes, and I think that is you forget enough, you aren't human anymore. I think that's also why some people are so cruel. They fail to remember that first we are not black, white, Muslim, Jewish, pretty, ugly, or tall or short. First we are always human. The thing is, too many people are made of paper now a days. I feel like I'm the only thing in the world that is more than two dimensional. I only find out that their are others like me when I look from different angles. You can't tell the depth of something until you look from more than just the front. The problem is, I don't have time to sort through all those people like a needle in a haystack. The thing is, the needle is the deeper person and the sharper object. People believe that the needle can hurt you but the hay cannot but that's not true because all the real people know that your heat can be broken just as bad whether the person is 2d or 3D. As much as it is nessasary. I hate reality. All the fake people are lucky you know. Oblivious to the pain. I'd choose happy and stupid over sad and real any day. I always say that it's a shame that more people aren't real, but I don't think that's the problem now. I think it would just be better if we were all real, or all fake so we could understand each other, though once all the real people die off, fake will become the new real and any real person left will just become an abnormality. I hope if anyone is reading this one day that it changes them for the better of for the worse, but I guess we won't know which one it is until the future.

Monday July 11: you know how we associate certain colors to emotions, certain smells to seasons, etc. I was just thinking about how when I was little, I would smell cotton candy and think of summer because I would get it at the beach, and I associate the smell of cut grass to my home in Texas because I would smell it out by the pool. I haven't smelled those things in a while though. Not because I haven't been those places but because I think I'm numb to those smells of happiness too. You know that color the clouds are right before it rains. It's almost like a warning that the clouds are going to fall apart. I wish I had warnings like that but I'm crashing down with none. But you also know how when it's bright and sunny out, and the weather girl says it will rain soon, but you don't believe it because it seems so wonderful out, but then out of no where it pours. That's how it is with me. I miss my friends at home now. I especially miss the ones I won't even see when I get back. I keep remembering this time that a bunch of us played uno, and me and chase were on a team. We spent all day laughing coming up with strategies. We wanted to win, but it didn't really matter because we were together having fun. That was one of the last times we were together. That was the most perfect day. I miss those day. The days of trash can basketball, frisbee in the park, and soccer in the school yard. It was so perfectly perfect and I didn't even know it most of the time. Actually, I did know it, but I just thought it was a time. People say you don't realize what you have until it's gone, but you know exactly what you had, you just didn't think you would ever lose it. Now I know that it is one of my happiest memories. So simple. So simply perfect. I will never get it back. I miss dance too. My injury is getting worse. I'm almost close to happy here though. I don't think I'll be happier at home though. Too much drama. I just kind of stay under the radar at school. That's good though. I don't like standing out. I don't feel like I fit in anywhere though. I have friends but sometimes I feel like an outsider. All my really good friends left. Adults try to tell kids that we are each special. We aren't. We won't get treated better because our name starts with the letter e. I'm not gonna get a job because I can jog really fast. I won't be more successful because I can point my toes. We aren't special. I think some few people are. But I'm not, and neither are most people. I hate it when people tell others they are special. It's setting you up to fail, and as I've said, expectations ruin everything.

July 18: the main goal of playing Jenga is to not let the tower fall apart. Then again, we know the outcome of the game is going to be the same every time. The tower will eventually fall and that is how the game will end however the only reason it is fun to play is because you want to see how many pieces you can take out before it does. When people tear each other apart, it is nothing but a game, and just like in Jenga you pluck the peices away until they fall apart. In the end it doesn't matter who pulled the last straw, either way, it breaks. People always know what the outcome of it will be even if they claim they didn't. Jenga should be about blocks. Not people. It's sad that that's what it comes to. I usually talk about thoughts tearing people apart, but where did those thoughts come from. Don't try to tell me you don't know. I have to go back to school soon. I can't do it. I can't physically handle the stress. I wish dance class was school. I don't care about the stress at dance. I know there is a lot of pressure there, but at least I wouldn't rather be anywhere else. I love to do it. I'm going into grade eight this year. There isn't anything to look forward to. I don't have a crush. My best friends left. I'm not going to have any big academic accomplishments. I have no interesting classes. I have nothing in the morning that encourages up other than the law saying I am forced to attend eight hours of my day wasted. I know it's still the middle of the summer, but I can't bear going back to school. I don't think I have dreaded it this much before. I wish I was going into high school. Then at least it would be new and interesting. I want to see my school friends again. I wish we were closer. I'm part of a big group. There must be ten of us at least. I feel like I have a ton of distant friends, while I would rather have just a few close ones. Sometimes I get so stressed out I can't breathe. My insides feel like all at ones they are pushed underwater in a whirlpool. It feels like I'm drowning but everyone else can breathe. Close your eyes. Lie down and don't think about anything. Stay there for a minute. Lie completely still. After a little while, open your eyes. Your fingers and toes have lost awareness haven't they. You know you can move if you want to, but don't. Think about that feeling right at that moment. Your brain is aware, but your body isn't. Doesn't it feel almost like you are numb to the world around you even though you are living and breathing. You only feel this in your fingers and toes right now, but imagine what it would be like to feel like that ever second, but this time it's not only your body but it's your heart. That's how I feel every day. Try it. Try it for me. I dont know if this will be future me reading this, or someone else, but just try it to be reminded of what I'm feeling right now. That's the best way I can help people understand at least. Though this is only one of the many complicated ways I feel, I think that if little by little people begin to understand how people like me feel, the world would be just a little bit kinder. I'm hope that people can understand it without having to feel it for themselves though, because it really sucks.

Friday august 5, 2016
Dance class started up again today. I was happyish. I know I was, but even in my shining moments, I feel nothing. Actually I feel too much. Almost like when your skin gets so cold it turns numb. You know in your brain it's cold, but you can't feel it. Someone once asked me if I loved myself. I look in the mirror every day, and see every flaw, every imperfection, and every weakness I've ever had, and i fear greatly that one day, other people will see me the same way I see myself. If someone asked you to make a list of everything you loved, would you be on it? I know I wouldn't. Sometimes I like to run. I run as fast as possible until I can't run anymore. I put my hand on my pulse and I just sit there and feel it. I try to feel what's it's like to be alive. Life is supposed to be beautiful, and I think on the surface it is, but if you look deeply, suffering and pain is the most real and beautiful thing there is. You know how in the fall, the leaves turn into wonderful and endless shades of red and yellow. Autumn might be the most beautiful season of all, but have you ever realized that every single beautiful leaf is dying. Slowly suffering. Though not all suffering is beautiful, it is noticed, consciously or not. Do you know what I mean? People also say honesty is the best policy, and that honesty is beautifully forgiving. It's not. It's not forgiving nor beautiful. Honesty is not the same as being yourself you know. Honesty is being willing to unlock secrets about yourself that you didn't even know yet. Honesty is when you wake up at three am and break down into tears and you don't even know why. Sometimes the most honest thing of all is to not explain why and just accept it. Sometimes, it's better to have a really good lie. Lies make people happy, and you know well that I'd take happy over knowing any day. I miss my school friends. You know which ones. They knew my honesty. I miss my friends from summer camp too. They knew it too. I would wake up in the middle of the night crying and hyperventilating, and they would come over to my bed (at camp) or I'd call them on the phone, and they're just sit with me. They didn't make up any of the "it's gonna be okay" crap. They would just sit. Not saying a word, and just then being there was the best comfort of all. I miss them. Life goes on though. Sometimes I wonder if that's good or bad. I'm not suicidal I guess, but if I were to die, and in heaven they asked me if I wanted to go back to earth to live, I don't know if I would say yes. Sometimes life is just too much. You don't know pain until you don't feel at all. I feel like I'm on autopilot. Like I'm watching my life through a tv screen instead of experiencing it. Why am I always thinking this stuff at night? By day, I'm pretty happy. I don't even think about this. But here we are.

Wednesday August 17: my dance teacher wanted to talk to me about my level. He says I'm in between. He says I'm a brilliant girl, and I have a fire in me that most don't have. He says I'm a hard worker, and that I'll go far, but he says he wants more. More perfection. Well guess what mister, this is all I have. This is everything in me. I take my entire soul and pour it out when he says he want feeling. I use every part of my brain to the fullest when he wants coordination. I enjoy dance, but I'm breaking down. I cried when he said to me that he feels for me because I don't really fit in anywhere. There's no place for me. I know he's talking about skill, but it's more than that to me. He says he knows it hard socially to not be able to get close to people and he understands that I feel excluded, but he's not doing anything to fix it. I don't talk much. When he asked for my opinions, every word that came out of my mouth was a struggle. My dad did most of the talking for me. I'm afraid to speak. Afraid to say the wrong thing, afraid to say anything at all. When I was little, I loved to talk especially in front of large groups. I'm afraid now. Even just to one person, my hands sweat, my face gets red, and I get this big lump in my throat. Words ruin everything. That's the good thing about being quiet. I think everyone should try it sometime. You'd be surprised to realize how meaningful silence can be. It's raw. If everyone would just shut their mouths every once in a while, and not only take some time to listen, but give the quiet ones like me the chance to be heard. You'd be shocked to see how much you're missing when you don't. I want to talk sometimes. In my head I'm part of the conversations and I answer the questions, but sometimes I wish I could answer them out loud. I just smile. That's all. But it's scary what a smile can hide, don't you think? I wish sometimes people could read all this, but not know I wrote it. I wish they would see this, and ask questions about what they don't understand about me. I go back to school Monday. A lot of my friends won't be there anymore though. I don't want to go to school knowing that they will never there to brighten my day. I look back at old pictures, and I remember what I felt at those very moments. At the time, at first I was just having fun, but then I'd look back at night and realize they would become my fondest memories. Later, in the moment, I knew at the time and I said to myself, these are the good days. Anyways, it's gone now. Maybe I'll get them back someday. Do you know what i want right this second? I want someone to tell me that they love. But not just say it, mean it. Not my mom, or anybody that loves me just because I'm in their family, but somebody who met me and loves me without obligation. Anyone. I worry that no one like that loves me. Put your hand on your heart. Do you feel that? That is important, but it isn't the reason you live. I don't think we know what we live for, until we what we would die for. I worry that no one would die for me, but the thing is, I think that even if someone would, I wouldn't let them. I'd kill myself before I'd let anyone I care about die for me. I guess that just means I would die for them too. I think the problem though with putting others first, is that you've learned to put yourself last. Sometimes that's not such a problem though.

Friday August 19: it's pouring outside. That doesn't matter though. The outside doesn't matter at all. Not that to most people the inside does either though. Sometimes now, I feel good about my body. Not usually though, but you know I never feel good about my mind. Ever. You see you can't fix your mind. Not with therapy not with love. It can be changed but not fixed. Your body you can lose weight, get surgery, use tattoos. You can do anything. Isn't it crazy though how much our brains can do. Don't you ever think to yourself though that out of the millions of things it can do, it can't make a happy though. Well it can, I can think of happy memories and all, but a new happy thought. Something I haven't heard before, because after a while memories fade and new thoughts take their place. A lot of my memories I will be okay with throwing out though. Some id like to keep. I write them down so I can remember them forever. Forever isn't long enough. Even infinities could be longer. When I looked out at the sky today, everything stopped. But it wasn't like my thoughts stopped coming or the world stopped moving or time stopped ticking. It was quiet. The day didn't stop. The future did. The thing is the future keeps coming and for some people that's a problem. The only reason I would like the world to stop is because I worry that as I get older my life will keep getting worse and I will regret everything. When your young like me you don't regret. I haven't been alive long enough to do anything I regret so greatly. Regret will just be another terrible thing to latch onto my belt as I get older. Who knows, maybe it will get better eventually. I hope it's soon, but something tells me it's not gonna be.

Sunday August 21:
It's earlier in the day than when I usually write, but I just realized some things. Let me explain. I often think to myself about the end of the world, how I know it will end someday inevitably, but I hope I won't be Alive that day. I do believe though that America will fall apart before that day comes though. I think I worry that with all that's going on with Donald trump, and all the wars we are part of we will stop understanding each other. And America will far apart starting with bombs and war and other things until we we nothing but another failed attempt at humanity. But the thing is before that can happen, we have to stop feeling compassion all together, at least the majority of people do. The thing I just realized is, although it may happen someday, it won't be today, or tomorrow, or the next because I feel it. I feel the pain of others and I care. I care, and so do millions more. And though I've talked about this on a global scale doesn't it ,ale you realize how just a few people caring can change everything. Maybe we don't always understand each other but we still care and that's okay. Then again one person with a cold heart can ruin it all. Take Hitlor. His cruelty and lack of compassion litterialy changed the worlds perception of pain forever. Though that's on a global scale too, if he can ruin millions, what do you think a cruel person can do to one person. Everything. That's the ugly truth because even the best of things have a downside. I tell the ugly truths but you know that I wish the pretty lie was true. I just couldn't tell you all those wonderfully hopeful things without showing you the darkness of them. Sometimes darkness is helpful though. It lets you see things you couldn't in the light. Even though it's usually bad things like monsters and shadows, you do know that the moon only shines in the darkness. I think the moon has it all right though. The darkness is the place to be. In the dark all you need to deal with are a few monsters under the bed, in the light, the monsters are inside of you. They have nowhere to hide so they all come out. I start school tomorrow. My goal for this year is not to make good grades, or get invited to a lot of parties. My goal is meet someone who makes me okay with going to school and makes me happy to wake up in the morning. It doesn't even need to be a crush, or someone I don't know, it could be someone I just need to get to know better. Someone who makes me happy. I found that last year, but now that's gone and I don't want to talk about it. I know that once school starts tomarrow my writings are going to change. They will probably be sadder and deeper because of the stress. I know my thoughts will scream so loudly they will scare me, but you know silence is pretty scary sometimes too. I just need to remember to breathe.

September 1:
I want to make something clear. I not perpetually sad. I'm not alone. It just feels like I am. It's like when you feel like you can't breathe but you actually can. My pace teacher told us today to stop wishing for the weekend. He says we are just wishing our lives away and we need yo find a way to be happy now, but you know, now up isn't really workin for me. I'd rather live 20 happy years than 100 miserable ones. I don't know what I want to do with my life yet, but I sure as hell know I want to do something amazing. Be adventurous. Not behind a desk all day. I want family, sure, but first I want to live for me. Before I have kids, I want yo go on a grand adventure. Maybe with a boyfriend or group of people but I want to go and do something I will never forget. Climb a mountain, go on a big road trip, travel the world, run away for a while. That way if I ever do end up behind a desk, I still will have done something incredible.. As said by John green, I plan to live an extraordinary life. And as said by Peter Pan, let's make magic.its a little early for magic though. I'm have to get out of high school and college first . I just want to cry sometimes. You know people cry not when they are weak, but when they have been strong too long. I don't want to have to explain the tears though. I want someone who loves me. To lay on their chest and just tell them everything. For them to tell me they love ,me and that they care, but no boy ever feels that way about me. Sometimes I wonder though. You know when you stare at someone whenever they look away. I wonder if anyone stares at me that way. If so, I'd like to know. That's the problem, if you wait too long to tell someone you care, hey might not get a chance to care about you back. I know it's early to worry about it, but I go to this really scary high school next year with drugs and fights and sex, and it's not that I can't handle myself, but I can't do it alone. My friends and I promised to have each others backs next year. I will have 4 older boys, 4 boys my age and 8 girls to depend on next year. I think we will be okay. Though I'm sure we aren't the most intimidating bunch we have power in numbers and power in care for each other. I can't handle myself I guess, but we can take care of each other, just like we do this year. I keep looking in the mirror, saying, it will be okay. You're okay. Just the fact I need to say that to myself though means I'm not. Breathe, relax, sleep, dont always fix everything. It scares me though, because some problems aren't fixable, and if I plan on doing extraordinary things, I need to find away to make it better. See it feels like I became sad like this overnight, but I didn't. It's not that I change. I don't think people change, I think they finally reveal to themselves who they really are, and they they reveal it to other people, and maybe then, and only then, can they except it and be happy. I can't wait to be happy.