Dear Trouble,

I guess you really are, trouble. But, I guess I really am, stupid. Now that you have your future, and I'm out of your way, there's no way you have time to listen to such a fucking gay song. But when you do get the chance, remember the scent I left for you, and the page I wrote to you, and know it isn't bullshit...like you said.

This is frightening, you know? Fighting a sin all on my own. But, I'm a sinner.

Nothing but a fucking sinner.

Sincerely,

4:10.

I've gone "MIA".

It's spring break 2010; to be honest, I didn't even plan anything, as I usually do. This year I didn't make a big deal about it, and put those cheesy ass quotes on my Myspace, or on Twitter. Usually, I plan it...big. Usually, I think about the parties, the drugs, the nights, and the coffee shops throughout the day. This year, it began insane. With my usual weekend: lights, pills, techno, and dancing. Usually I would have done this every night of the entire break! This year, I'm speaking to no one, and seeing no one. I've gone what my peeps and I call "MIA"; Missing In Action. It's just a funnier way of saying, fuck you all, I need a break.

You see, whoever you are reading this, I feel so damn alone. I don't know why, I mean, I've dealt with worse knowing there would be less in the end. This time it's different. This time, it's not making anybody happy. It's as if, in the end I can have all I want, and more than I've ever had. But you see, whoever you are reading this, I prefer to have the bare minimum in the end, as long as this feeling cuts off; AS LONG AS I'M HAPPY.

What makes everything worse, is my sense of realism. In realism, happiness won't get me, anywhere anymore. Being happy won't get my mom a house, my sister a car, my college paid, or my brother's dream. Happiness should be everything, but it isn't...anymore.

I keep thinking, I can't do this...IT. When I want nobody anymore, I just want, myself back. Before I knew it all, before I knew everything.

I want the me who, spent hours searching for the latest indie tracks, the me who looked forward to traveling the world. I just want the me who didn't cry for months, back. And the me who found local events, flutes, and sunglasses exciting. I want that me, but, she's gone. Out into the sea, I love so much.

I've always said to myself, love comes from the sea. I'm a Five minute walk away from the sea this very second, then...where's the love? Shouldn't it be blowing towards me through the wind? Or, is it going the opposite direction tonight?

I think so..

i carved your name as neat as i could on myself, so it would match your BEAUTY.

Dear you,

My sin,

I now adore you, more than ever. When I should hate you, more than ever. My sweet, sweet sin, why did you fool me? Why? Is it, because you know I'm still here? Or is it because, you don't see, you are my life?

I was always taught, to delete your sins. But this sin, is one filled with more joy, than the one's I was taught.

This sin, keeps me here.

you damn secret.

What the fuck?

I ask, and I ask,

"What's happening to you?"

Can someone give me an answer here?

The worst emotion.

It's stronger than depression, even stronger than love in my eyes; anger.

At least when I'm angry, I begin to think I'm crazy. But so does everyone else.

What makes me different? Just because I feel as if hurting a creature, or a person, will make me happy, makes my anger...different? Just because I want my "loved" ones, to not speak one word to me, makes me...different? Just because I feel walking, or swimming, miles and miles, to make the questions stop, really makes me...different?

Because I suddently

hate,

everyone's voice,
everyone's questions,
everyone's kindness,
everyone's face,
everyone's love,
everyone's presence,
everyone's faith,
everyone.

makes me...different?

I'd rather die.