God fucking damit! I can't even write a fucking diary entry, and it was good, too. I'm just so mad today, and I don't know why. Every little thing has just been getting on my nerves, like the way this shit browser didn't even save my old entry like fucking IE would. I'm just really pissed off right now. I don't even want to write, because I just know it's going to sound like shit.
I'm in one of those moods where I don't want anyone to feel bad for me. I just want to fucking cut my arms off, and hurt myself. I'm so mad at myself, and at everyone. You know, I mean, I don't want people like FiFi to play around with me and lie to me. I keep calling her to ask what's going on, and it's always like "I have to go." I'll call you back later, but there never is a fucking later! It just makes me mad that I never have anyone who will understand to talk to. And that my fucking four month old cd is already skipping!
I wanted to write something nice, and not angry, either. I was reading something on teenopendiary.com, and it bothered me. You see, there was this guy who used to write really good poetry. I thought it was cool, so I put it on my favorites, and I would read his poetry, it was just amazing. Anyway, he hadn't updated in a while, and I saw his diary light up today, meaning he had updated.
Now, I wasn't speculating on why he hadn't been updating. I just thought that he-like most people-was too damn busy to write in his diary. Who isn't anymore? Anyway, I read the newest entry, and it said he had died in a firey crash, and that his friend was writing in the diary to say goodbye, because he would have wanted everyone to know that he was gone, if he could've.
It just made me sad. This guy was a really good writer, I'm not lying, either. He wrote really good poetry and songs and character sketches. I still don't really believe he's dead. The person didn't even say why, or when or where or how. Yet, there really is no why, there's never a why, at least to me. I wish there was though, it would just make a bit more sense of death. People have lied before on diaries on that site, about everything, being sick, pregnant, and even dead. Somehow, I don't think this is a lie.
I didn't even know the guy, or leave a note on his diary, but it's just sad. I don't understand why people whose real talent and dedication to something shines through, have to die. While someone like me is going around, wanting to play guitar in a local band and have a part time job and start an indepedent record company, is still around. I'm not anywhere near that goal. I don't even have a good guitar, just a cheap Fender acoustic, which doesn't even have a hook up. I haven't even been playing that well lately, and there's no musical background in my genes. I just feel like I'm not made out for music, because everyone who is practically has quarter notes in their blood.
I guess it's because we had Career "Day" (which was about two periods, out of four, hence the parenthesis) and it was just really stupid. It made me feel bad, too, becuase there were so many people who wanted to be a musician, and I think a ton of them had all those advantages listed above. Just like the guy I was talking about, though I feel I didn't really write about what he was like. Maybe someday, I'll sneak some of his poetry in here. I won't say it's mine, I'll just have to put it in here soon, to show you what I really mean, before TOD deletes his diary. I'm going to just throw this in my other diary. No one reads it anyway. I think I'll be okay.
*Racecar*
<< Tuesday, May. 13, 2003@6:46 p.m.>>