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*Sigh*
I Feel Like Such A Hypocrite.
I'm Seriously Just A Motivational Speaker,
Incapable Of Taking His Own Advice.
Like That Stupid Man, Jim Cunningham, From Donnie Darko.

I Found My Old Journals.
I Didn't Bother To Read Them,
But I Like Knowing Where They Are,
The Only Problem Is, I Seem To Have Misplaced
My Little Notebook I Keep All My Ideas In...
I Just Remembered It Might Be In The Tech-Ed. Room,
Where I Hid It, So People Wouldn't Read My Stories While I Drew Pictures.

I Feel Like I Am Helpless.
I Don't Know Why.
Like I Could Look Into Myself, And See How
Tiny, And Insignificant I Truely Am.
How If I Died, No One But The Family History Tree Would Know I Existed.
How We're All Just Tiny People On The Face Of A Planet Surrounded By Lifeless Planets, Surrounded By Space.
How All The Love Stories We Write Never Work The Way They Really Do.
How Lots Of Times, The Bad Guy Gets The Girl, Or The Good Guy Never Makes It In Time.
And That Eventually, The Sun Might Kill Us.
Or That An Asteroid Called Eros Might Kill Us.
Or That Cancer Might Kill Us.
Or That A Gun Shot From Someone You Never Knew On A Streetcorner Could Kill Us.

Maybe I'm Depressed.
Maybe I'm "Goth", Like People Used To Say.
Maybe I'm Just Depressed.
I Don't Care.

I Just Feel Really Empty,
And I Can't Wait To Sleep.
I Can't Wait For Something To Snap Me Out
Of This Stupid Daze Of Shallow, Unthankfulness That I'm In.

Seven Different Pills.
Seven.
That's How Many I Take Every Morning,
Because I'm Malnourished, Because I Don't Eat
Lunch, And Because I'm A Vegetarian.
And Because I'm Stressed.

I Feel Like I Seek Recognition From Those Around Me At School,
But No One Is There.
I Wanted To Be A Nice Little Gift To Someone Who Might have Been Feeling Like Me
But, I Was Shy.
I Was Cowardly.
I Was Nervous.
I Didn't Say Anything.
I've Decided To Pray From A Distance, Like
The Cowardly, Priest-Wannabe I Am.

I Just Thought That I Could Have Done Something.
That I Could Do Something More That Lay In Bed,
With My Hands Pressed To My Forehead.

Perhaps I'm Just Seeing Things From A Negetive
Point Of View...

I Am A Sheep In A Wolf's Facade.
I Act Like I Want To Be,
But I'm Not.
I Could Never Live Up To The Expectation Of What I'd Like To Be.
'If I Were Twice The Man I Could Be, I'd Still Be Half Of What You Need.'
That Sums Up How I Think On That.
I'll Never Be A Great And Skillful Illustrator, Like Sophie.
I'll Never Be A Mystical Poet, Like Clive Barker.
I'll Be That One Kid Who Draws In Class, Or That Boy With The Memo-Book Of Stories.
An Amature.
But, I Wouldn't Want To Deal With The Stress Of Being Famous.
I Wouldn't Like To Deal With All The Paparazzi.
I Was Telling My Dad About Who I Was On World Of Warcraft.
Because He Was Talking About How My Character Was Crappy.
He's Really Just Giving Me Crap, But I Told Him This.

'I Used To Be The Newbie Rolemodel For Bloodwolves.
I Was The Most Helping, Generous, Time-Donating,
Person You Could Find.
I Was Like Zelkova.
I Was Kind, And Very Hard To Anger.'

I Wish I Were Who I Wanted To Be.
But, It's Just A Game.
It's Fake.
The Idea Of Being Like That, Is Fake.

It's Like Trying To Live Like Jesus.
You Can't Live Like Jesus.
There's Just So Much You Can Do.
You Can Only Strive To Make Yourself A Kind Person.

That's What I'll Do.