Ramble

I know, it's totally rough and mostly pointless, I just needed to ramble on for a while. If there's a teeny bit of hope somewhere, and you actually read it, could you help me out?

I know that I’m going to get caught- It’s just a fact of life. Being awake at 11 something doesn't go over well after being told to go to bed and hour earlier. Sometimes it’s just easier to start going if you know the consequences ahead of time. Besides, writing just needs to flow. I still think I’m numb. If only he knew... would I feel different? Is there any way to escape this ongoing feeling? Because lately, it’s less of a feeling and more of a way of life. I don’t like it, but what can we do? Revolt, probably. For instance, I set up a second computer (wasting energy and money) and colored my white shoes (making me and my feet happy.) I do believe my favorite type of shoes are sambas. Why? I still don’t know. And, I was perfectly happy when he copied me the first time, buying sambas out of his normal croc lifestyle. Unfortunately, most good things aren’t meant to last. Now he’s just some... strange... person who won’t stop talking to me. I’m still afraid that he’ll ask me out, even though that’s all I wanted for years. It would’ve been nice, even though the words would’ve been meaningless. I seriously think something like that should mean something, that it’s more than an excuse to hang out. It would be nice, or so I sometimes think, to have gone out with him. I still dream that he talks to me or, (oh my), hugs me. Pathetic, right? Maybe to most of the world, but to me, I think that’s all that I really wanted. Someone who would help me “unload” and that I could talk to about anything because they didn’t know quite as much about me, but would be open to it. And, even though that sounds like a lot, it’s just someone who would both talk and listen to me. Yeah, I have friends, in case you’re wondering. But, I want somebody more, somebody just plain ol’ bigger and better than me so I could feel more protected from the world, that I was facing it that much less alone. Can you get that in a grade school relationship, or even ever? I don’t know, but darn it, I wish I did. I know I’m asking too much. I always do, and I probably get disappointed easily. Which would probably explain the cynical part of me. I mean, I like humans as much as the next person, but it’s just too easy for me to think we’ve just screwed it up too much. Seriously, look at any fashion magazine. What do people have to go through to look like that? And we all want to be them, live the perfect life. Even me. Half of the time, anyway. The other half I think, god, what is wrong with those people? Why do they live behind lies, trying too hard to make the scale tip in their direction? Which, by the way, is down... it makes no sense, what we’ve done to the human race. Even I’m crazy right now, thinking that someone might actually read this and care, that is, besides people I know who might actually go, aww, Chelsey....
And, at 11:39, I don’t want to stop.
I don’t want to face reality, that this life is going to go on, no matter where I am or what I’m doing. Furthermore, how I’m doing. It doesn’t care, and it’s pretty good at rubbing stuff in my face. It seems too much, too often. Suicide? No. No with a lot of no’s after it. Two reasons, I think. Firstly, as screwed up as this world may or may not be, I do like it here. Second, I’m too weak.
Speaking of weakness, I’m going to talk about something that doesn’t make sense.
I was doing something I thought I should but didn’t really want to, and I figured I’d be too weak to actually do it... and I did. I didn’t realize how strong I was until I finished and wished I was weaker, that I couldn’t do it and that I’d given up. I wish the opposite of that, mostly, but... I didn’t want to conform. I didn’t want to be like them, like the populars and fakes. It just wasn’t me. But, in a sense, I was weak for going through pain to conform. It’s not worth it. I ruined a month, constantly worried about what would happen if someone somehow found out... then laughed, just saying, “Ooh, you think you fit in, but what a weak attempt that was. What are you, anyway? Some fake?”
And they’d be right. I’d be more fake than them.
And, my calling. I’m about to be caught.
Night, then...