Why so emo?

I dug up an old diary that I used from January to February 2005. It's a small notebook, a gift my college friend gave me because he knows I write a lot. You betcha.

Heathus Christ, I don't write like this anymore. Or do I?

February 22, 2005, Tuesday

My jaw is aching all day. I felt like giving up. I felt like breaking down. I felt so depressed and hopeless. This evening is even more depressing. I realized that I'm actually alone. At home, in school... all alone. I can't trust anyone now. It's hard to because they all hurt me. I can't lean on them. Our relationships are so superficial; just on the surface. I just go to school and go home afterwards because it's expected of me. It's the way of life. But it doesn't mean I'm really for it. Sometimes I just want to be truant and not come home. Sometimes I just want to stay away forever but I know that wouldn't happen. Or I want to be bedridden and wallow in my sleep. No dreaming though coz that makes me expect more out of life. I just want to be bedridden sometimes and not do anything; not think of anything; not exist even for a while.

I just don't understand this. Overdosing has entered my mind a while ago. I know where to get enough pills to destroy my stomach. But I stopped myself. I don't know what's holding me back. What could it be? I even thought of cutting myself again but I can't do it. Or just getting lose and blowing it right at the dining table earlier. But I still can't do it. Why?!

Sometimes I want to shout at the top of my lungs here in my room. But I thought it was impossible. I know shouting would help me a lot. It is an expression of freedom and an outlet. But I can't do it at home. Or anywhere else. I feel so boxed in. Unlike before, I could shout and all when I was still playing soccer competitively. Soccer was my outlet. And nobody felt it was that important for me. Sometimes I feel myself getting out of my body and kicking an imaginary ball as hard as possible. I still feel the rush I used to feel before. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that I'm feeling this way towards soccer when I have left the team for more or less one year now. For me, I'm experiencing both a body hurt and a soul hurt. [OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, I JUST RIPPED THAT OFF FROM NEIL GAIMAN!! - Jamie]

I feel so confused. Sometimes I do things even though I know they are wrong. Like what I recently I did for a few days. Sometimes I feel guilty for doing things or simply for being here, for existing. Sometimes I feel [that] I am a joke. My life is a joke and everyone's laughing at the punchlines that I haven't figured out for myself.

I feel lost. I don't know where to go and where to stay either. I don't know where I am welcome.

Why I am so trusting? Why am I honest?? Why do I let my guard down when I know there are outside forces that would eventually hurt me? I want to lie and feel good about it. I want to do evil things without being responsible for the consequences. I don't want to be judged and I don't want my future to be in the hands of someone and be calculated.

I want to be abstract and not concrete. I don't want to be pointed a finger at. I want to be here and there at the same time. I want to be an invisible presence even though there are times that I hunger for recognition. I want to perish without hangups, without regrets, without pain. I want to disappear and come back again on my cue.

[12:30 am the next day]

My eyes are painful from crying. But I'm happy.

WHAT. THE. F*CK. The whole thing was raining with the word "sometimes." Damn, make up your mind. Well, I can't grasp what I was trying to say there. Is this some sort of silent rebellion?

Let me translate an excerpt of this other entry which was written earlier than that. I just thought it's interesting:

January 21, 2005, Friday

Goddamit! He hasn't forgotten me! He gave me his new number. It just means I'm still in his phone book. But I'm already at peace. All of sudden, he'll send that? He probably used the "Send All" function and he forgot that I'm still in his phone book. Letse! I have forgotten you, you animal. Then you appear again. Animal. Animal. Animal. Walang hiya! 

Anyway, I asked ______ about the "Send to all" option. He said it's not possible. Probably "Send to many." My god, he didn't think twice to send me his new number. Yuck. Ew. I do not want this. There's so much to hate about him. But I don't have to show him that I hate him. I don't have to treat him badly. That's already something else. He didn't do anything, but it hurt. Bwiset talaga! When will he leave me alone?

LOL. That was so pathetic, me analyzing small things like that.

I fell asleep last night reading the notebook. Actually I have a lot of notebooks to backtrack. My god, the emo-ness is so overwhelming.

The other thing I found is an old screenplay I started working on back then, but I didn't finish it because I got discouraged when I took a screenplay writing class in college and my teacher kept criticizing the draft of that screenplay when I submitted it as a final requirement. She said there was no focus in it. She probably thought it was ridiculous, but truth to tell, it was based on a true story and what really happened was ridiculous. I was just trying to capture the ridiculousness on paper. THE EFF, Miss Kenny. Thank you for ruining my dream. Thanks a lot. I appreciate that. You have made my life less colorful.

I guess I'll get stuck with writing blog entries, huh? 

tags: diary  blog  2005  emo  boys  screenplay  

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