Dear Diary

i've sat here for a whole 5 minutes. thinking of some witty thing to
say. something to start me off and make this entry a good one.
something to incorporate into my thoughts and feelings. instead, all i
get are tears that block my perception. you know, i don't care if you
hate me. i don't care if you damn me to hell, tell me to die, wish i
would commit suicide. i don't care if you never say goodbye on the
phone, tell me you love me, give me a hug. i don't care about any of
those anymore. i wish you would just smile at me for once. smile like
you do to everyone else. put up a fucking front for all i care. pretend
you care then. pretend you care about me and think about me. pretend
you feel sorry for me when i have to stay up all night studying.
pretend, damnit just pretend you love me. i don't need your dispprovel
for something i've never done, something i can't help. i can't help the
way i am. i can't help it that i have a bad memory and i can't memorize
everything i've been learning. i can't help the fact that i'm working
so hard and not getting the grades i want. i can't help the fact that
no matter what i do i can't make you happy. and i guess i'm sorry for
that too. i'm sorry for who i am. i'm sorry you had me when you weren't
ready so you had to send me to fuckin taiwan. i'm sorry i can't bring
back little sticky notes like brian that say i got a green today, that
i behaved in school today. i'm sorry i can't impress you with my piano
playing skills...when was the last time you listened? when was the last
time you came to a band concert? when was the last time you cared?
cared about what i love doing? like dancing, and playing instruments? i
gave up a long time ago. i'm just another figure in the house, another
blank face taking and using your money. you can smile at them, but the
moment you set eyes upon me you frown, like a fucking fake clown that
drew too big of lips on himself, the one where it pretends to be sad
yet there are no tears, and no pain. i can dress up, pretend i'm a
doll, a princess, an unknown fairytale character in some mysterious
book, i can pretend i'm perfect, with the perfect life, and the perfect
smile, and i can smile at you with my perfect white teeth. i can slap
A's onto my face, cover myself in them, and all you would see would be
another faceless girl. one that you particularly despise. your love is
like the geletin in fucking pamela anderson, fake and disgusting. why
can't you just pretend? because without you, i am nothing and i will be
nothing. because no one will be able to support me like my very own
mother does.