It's weird to have it all laid out next to each other. To go through them and realize how this was just a couple of months ago and how it feels like not a long time ago and yet so far away. I'm not the same person I was four months ago but I resemble the one seventeen months ago.
Angry?
Yeah.
Pathetic?
Check.
I like to say that I don't know why I feel like this. The inability to talk to people, the panic I feel whenever I take a step out of my room. I saw this all coming a while ago. All my pessimism was my subconscious telling me that all of this was going to happen. I hate it here. I do. And I lie to myself, say that I'll get out of here. I have to. I'm better than this place. But I'm not. My grades are crap because my ambition doesn't exist, and when it boils down to it, I'm not all that smart. I belong here, and that's why I hate it.
When you get enough time to yourself, you start to feel angry about how everyone else is so capable of moving on and living their lives. Because this is it, isn't it? This is the whole start of what is supposed to be my life. But I've let my fear take charge of my life this far, why did I think that that'd change all of a sudden. I see some middle school classmates around. That's funny all on itself, but I imagine sometimes that they don't remember me because why should they? Middle school was so long ago but I'm here living in the past, because I don't know how to live in the present.
Some days I feel like I can do it. That all these negatives feelings I have toward almost everything is only temporary. That it's part of my melodramatic tendencies. I hate those days the most because they make it so much harder to deal with the ones where I wake up feeling a hallowing kind of loneliness.
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