HOME
I'm staring out into the night,
And trying to hide the pain.
I'm going to the place where love
and feeling good don't ever cost a thing,
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.
I'm going home to the place where I belong,
where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm running from you know I think you got me all wrong,
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
-Chris Daughtry
Sunday, April 09, 2006 Second thoughts
9:47 PM
On physical and mental agony.
I'm aching really badly. From the neck downwards until the middle of my lower back, it's just one whole mass of pain. It hurts to move, it hurts to lie down, it hurts typing this shit, it just hurts. I can't take much more of this really, waking up every morning feeling a hundred years old. But I won't allow myself to stop, simply because I hate the thought of feeling weak.
I'm going to kill myself someday soon doing all this shit, but I don't mind really. The thought of death stopped scaring me a long time ago, in fact somedays I kind of hope that it'll hurry along. I'm not talking about suicide of course, I'm too yellow to take the plunge or anything like that. But you know, sometime you cross the road hoping a speeding car will help you along. Damn this sounds so wrong.
I don't need therapy or anything like that, I'm perfectly sane and conscious of what I'm doing and saying. Besides, I'm not like that everyday. I just get a little crazy somedays, when you feel all empty and dead inside. It's not something you can control, getting up in the morning and feel like you're better off dead, and really, it's not always pms. Life just has a sneaky way of catching you unaware and knocking you off your feet and onto your head.
Just like it has the past couple of days.
I'm completely disorientated and at a loss of what to do. I just wish that someone could tell me what I'm supposed to do.
But anyways, thank God for small miracles.
