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Have you ever seen the rain? - Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
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Have you ever seen the rain? [Jul. 10th, 2010|♥02:55 pm]
It's me, an outlaw
[This is how it feels... |pessimisticpessimistic]

I really hate myself sometimes.
I always end up doing things that I told myself I wouldn't do again.
It's hard for me to be dropped like an atom bomb; like I'm suddenly an infectious disease.
It's hard to feel like nothing; to be reminded of how easily I can be forgotten or replaced.
I am made to feel like I am special and then I am treated like gum on a shoe; carelessly scraped from the bottom of your shoe.
So, I say thank you, thank you so much.
I really just don't know who to blame.
I am in a war with myself, a war with you and a war with the world.
I am in a war with the memories of abandonment and bitterness.
I didn't expect it.
It was like a shock to me.
I'm sick of being unsure whether to feel guilty and apologetic or angry and confrontational.
I wish I could just feel neither.  I wish I could just sink away.
But the truth is that anyone with eyes or a brain could see that I was led on.  As I have been before.
Someone usually just gives up on me.  I hate being reminded that.
It makes me wonder if anyone would truly enjoy me for more than a little while.
It's hard to be confident when you're blind and cold, when you have little to show for your heart and soul other than a few words and dried up tears. 
I tried my best to be confident; and as quickly as I gain it, it is once again broken.
Usually at the hands of others, with my own acceptance of this.
I allow anyone and everything to make me feel inferior; though I may fight it, I feel it; almost always I feel it.
I wish I could just pack up and get away from it all, but then I remember that I have no means to do so.  Or motivation.  So I just continue to lie here in my bed; partially angry with myself, partially feeling sorry, and most of all feeling angry for feeling sorry for myself.
I just want to be happy :P 
And even if I do become happy, it is always hard for me to accept.  It's much easier for me to be angry and bitter or sad and lonely than to be happy. 
Just getting some stuff off of my chest, I guess.
Though I probably sound like I am complaining and angsty and hate the world.
I'm just writing.  I rarely write for a reason.  I just write.