Tuesday, August 15, 2006

there's nothing wrong with it.

you know what's funny about being different than usual?
is that people make pressure enough for you to bother.
i'm a 'cheer-up-let's-party people!' person most of the time.
but it's not like i don't have any problems and i belive in mankind.
but, you know, i'm a big-smile-dancing-eletric-talking person. i don't know why. i just am.
it's good. it's bad. it's ok. it's just a way to be. i was born like that, nobody asked me what kind of person i would like to be.
i would like to be really really serious.
because people don't respect people who smile a lot. they just don't know when to stop.
they just guess that everything will always be fine after a while with you. that you'll always get over all your issues and always forgive everybody's mistakes.
i have no idea from where they took that. it's not in the books, i didn't say that. i don't deserve that treatment.
i can't be cruel and talk all i really would like to say all the time. people would hate me for good.
i'm sorry. i keep to myself. it's my problem. who cares?
and that really doesn't say much about me.
and then, i feel like i'm supposed to be like that 24-7 and and be the clown of every crowd i'm in.
the joker who will make everybody laugh the hole evening.
great.
it's a good job. people like you, you're funny, you bring good energies.
and there comes the day that you're simply not in the mood. you want your own clown to make funny jokes to you. i wanna be audience sometimes, you see?
and i feel like i don't have the right.
and i wonder why people think i have no problems.
just because i don't bother everybody else with them?
just because i don't show up with the bad mood?
just because i don't make revenge?
c'mon, that's no excuse.
and, it's worse. other people think that yes, i do have problems. but just small ones.
oh my God, i wanna die.
i wanna die when somebody looks at me and say that i have nothing to complain about.
just because i'm healthy and there are millions dying everyday?
just because i have a family, and a home and rest of the world is fighting for the homeless?
i wanna die.
but, i'll find a way. i will. i have. that's my own pressure.
i'll find a way to live with that. well, i already do. but i'm sick of it.
i want to leave that. just don't fuckin care.
and when i finally make everybody understand that YES PEOPLE, I HAVE A BAD MOOD TOO, people go away. they go away and wait for the next day when 'i'll be just fine' again!
that's ridiculous! i don't have nerve for that anymore.
and i can't tell people about because they just don't get it!
i wanna die.
i don't belong in this world. i have to fit, but it hurts.
it's like buying a pair of shoes four sizes smaller than yours and try to put them and dance for 6 hours.
it hurts.
i don't know, i have to read some more. it must be a way.
this can't be it. i'm only 22. there's hope.
.
.
.
i'll find a way - rachael yagamata

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