vicissitude.

I would like to think that maybe there is hope and that these sleepless nights are worth it.

I would like for this incessant pain to go away.

I would like for this embarrassment from that ridiculous detention to eventually dissipate.

I would like to be normal for once.

of course, there is no such thing as "normal". but talking to someone on the bus today was quite enlightening. within people, there are differences in their placement on the spectrum: some people have it worse in some ways, but better in others. and in that spectrum it's very difficult to find a good balance between the two extremes. perhaps it may be good that I have freedom within my life, as well as the decision to choose; however, I am severely lacking in another factor that actually results in that freedom. in ways we may believe other people have it better.. but it may be worse. who are we to list these people on an organized chart, deprived of details? how can we assume that those we do not know are not suffering? life is not perfect; in our lives, nothing can reach the level of perfection. everyone will have their emotional scars, their own quirks.

I could run away from home and stay at a friend's house if I just told my parents where I was. sometimes, I've contemplated doing it, just to see if they would look for me. they would never find me. I really wonder if it's as doable as I make it seem.

I've been better at school. I feel better. though, a piece of me still clings to that negative side; the one that causes me distress and my so-called "emo aura". sometimes, it can't help but surface. but I do believe that I've gotten better at containing it. I can tell when it comes out.. when my voice goes quiet and low, inaudible even to myself. when my eyes droop from the lack of energy or frustration at whatever situations I find myself in.

I wish I could ask. I wish I could talk. I wish I could find out the truth regarding some of my friends. I know I can't demand them to tell me the truth.. but an explanation as to why something other than the truth is uttered into my ears would suffice. but if one isn't willing to tell the truth, who says they're going to tell me the reason why they're not telling the truth? I may be weak, but I am strong enough to stand when faced with unfortunate news. let me be strong for once.. allow me to shoulder a burden or two. I wish I weren't so weak myself; it is depressing to have to rely on other people to shoulder my burdens so that I do not get crushed by it all.

"well, you are the one
the one who lies close to me
whispers, 'hello, I've missed you quite terribly,'
I fell in love,
in love with you suddenly
and there's no place else
I could be but here in your arms"