It makes me sad that Andrea's in Minnesota for the summer because I always miss her and Christina during the holidays. I'm just remembering all the summers that have passed and I realise this is seriously my last one and I'm just wasting it, as I suppose everyone does with their summers. But I feel like this one is supposed to be special. Maybe I've just been listening to too much old time music from when everyone was still here. Like Mike and Mya and Lauren. I'm just feeling strangely detached, like I'm spinning out of control onto some magical passenger ship that's floating somewhere I don't know and will never sink, only I can sink, I am of lead in my mind's eye and every step toward the past and the memories is another step toward misery. I suppose that the time is now. I keep having these odd dreams, not because of the pickles, but just because my sleeping habits are all weird right now. They seem so weird and I'm suffering from indecision. As Mr. Green has taught us, this is the call. This is the time when I am realising that my current situation is painfully unsatisfying and has grown stale and sterile and I need to be reborn, no matter how painful. I need to clear my eyes and get my head on straight and stop worrying or I'm going to go back to the way I was. Miserable with my loneliness, crying all the time, not eating, aching, wanting to die. I constantly wondered things. For instance, I don't know how many people are actually tuned into this journal and find my posts interesting, but for the people who did, how would they know if I died? I wouldn't be here to post. And I would want them to know... I wouldn't want to just not post forever. Which would make me an idiot. I would have to leave a note. "Josh, Lauren, please use this password and break into my livejournal and post that I am dead... and tell the locals to come to my funeral." I guess everyone thinks about that sort of thing every now and then. The lady at Bomshele said I have a real future, but I just can't see it. Nothing is clear, even past 18. I'll live till 18, so I can be legitimately carded for 18+ things, and then what? Nothing. Everyone who's close to me has told me at one point or another that they don't want to be close to me. It makes them feel like, why should they? I'm not even gonna be around. No matter what they do, no matter how good they are to me, I'm what? Just gonna kill myself. What's the point? What's the point of being my friend if I'm just gonna disappear because I am a lazy fuck who is sick of dealing with all the shit. Bored out of my mind. Unable to trust anyone. Last time I was like this I wrote about it on here, and everyone said, "Suck it up, stop being a drama queen. It's really pathetic. It's a ploy for attention. (which it IS NOT, I just like to vent on here, and I'm not FORCING anyone to read it anyway) Just live. Your life can't be that bad." It's not about being bad. It's about breaking points. Everyone who is important to me somehow becomes lost. The ones I get the closest to are always somehow torn away. No one knows how bad I took it when Mike and Mya left, and the following summer Lauren left. She was the type of friend who you didn't have to be around all the time but you knew that you still had this unbreakable thing and still just knew one another. Life is loss, life is pain... I don't understand anything. What's the point of life, if that's all it is. Beauty fades, love grows cold, happiness is fleeting. Nothing is stable. The word secure does not exist. Even stones don't last forever. Something like that, it seems solid and reliable but is eroded until there is nothing left but a tarnished shell. Such is life. We all are reduced to pebbles and the end and cease to exist. Why wait to become a pebble? Die as a stone.
Nothing is forever. A new beginning is your favourite door being slammed in your face. Change equals pain, as does life. Life and change have always been synonymous. Life and pain and change. It's one big fucking neverending triangle. Everytime you start over and pass go, they don't give you two hundred dollars. They smack you in the face and take a piece of your heart that you can just hope to gain back while you're going around the board. Fuck it all.