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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

6:39 PM
Everyone has their own crosses to bear, this is mine.

Life's a gamble of the biggest proportions. But you don't have a choice, and the stakes are always high. One wrong move, and you stand to lose everything. I was never cut out for life the way others are, the ones who thrived upon all the lies, manipulation and shady dealings. I could never lie with a straight face, or cheat someone without feeling like the guilt inside was going to consume me.
My mind holds me hostage to my misery. I think too much, too deeply and it drives me crazy. The thoughts fester in my head and overwhelms me like a sickness, leaving me naked and venerable.

The power of one's actions.
Whatever semblance of normality that descended upon the household in recent years has been ripped apart, exposing all that's wrong and diseased. The facade is falling apart, and no one has the strength to keep pretending anymore.
Overnight, the sun doesn't shine anymore and the world's threatening to blow up in my face. The last vestige of goodness has been stolen from me, but yet I don't feel anything much. I wish I could be like the woman in the train I saw today, her expression contorted with anguish, her face grim with the effort of holding back the tears that were threatening to spill out. At least then, I'll be human.
But I find myself clenching my jaws together, refusing to let any of my emotions rise to the surface, the stoic expression on the face the closest I'm willing to let on that everything's not right - despite the pressure building up within me. I feel like the captain of a ship that has lost its bearings, afloat at sea suffocating slowly but surely under the immense weight of expectations upon his shoulders.

People say that it doesn't matter how awful your life is, as long as you've your friends and family by your side. But what happens when even that becomes subjective? What do you do when your life falls apart and you find yourself hapless and unable to do anything, anything at all to make things right? What do you do then?

I closed my eyes and prayed before I drifted off into an uneasy sleep, hoping that somehow He could make it all alright. But then I remembered all my half-assed promises to study harder or to be a better person that I never kept, I think He's probably sick of me by now.

I'm sick of all the tears and all the madness. I wish they would leave me alone and stop apologising. I'm tired of apologies and excuses, they serve no purpose other to rub salt into the wound and emphasis to me how fucking unfair this is. I'm not a kid anymore, I don't need fancy excuses, they don't make me feel any better.
I never asked for this. It would be a lot easier to swallow if I had done something, anything that could explain this, but this time, I'm not bearing my own cross, I'm bearing yours.

When the world goes crazy, head for the nearest exit.
Mine's entitled, "Welcome to hell."

The world turns red when madness overcomes cowardice, and pain overwhelms logic.

I wish that I could cry,
fall upon my knees.
Find a way to lie,
about a home that I'll never see.