Justin’s POV
I tried to not think about it so much or I knew it would kill me in the end. I hated being so frustrated like this. I hate the fucking LA scene. There’s a reason why they call it that. All these girls… I’m sad to say I fell into the gap of this mess. It wasn’t my fault but in the end, it was.
I walked up to my front door which I knew was empty behind it. Yeah, I was alone tonight and it was my deciding. I didn’t want to deal with anyone now. Especially when I’m having such harsh feelings about certain people who usually bother me all night while just think about new ways to lie to them about not going out.
Being a celebrity is easy. It’s almost too easy sometimes. But being a celebrity human is another ball of wax that I’m still figuring out. Just like in LA, or as I like to call it, in place where you can’t trust anybody, voices are heard, wishes are granted, paradise is full-filled beyond your wildest dreams; but that’s it. It’s a fantasy and a fallacy all in one.
The harsh reality of it all hits me in-between my eyes a little too hard now. I hate the faces. I hate the phony expressions dispersed every which way it’s almost as if everyone’s a robot and there’s no real life anymore.
I turned the knob on the handle and begrudgingly walked in, throwing my jacket and keys into the side basket next to the door.
That computer beep sound startled me suddenly. I forgot I left my screen on stand by, I always do. I reluctantly sat down to delete the mails sent my way. Most are usually just things my friends find at various ebaums sites or sometimes its news I might have missed. Other times I just get straight up emails from business execs and other co-workers who beg me to check something out because the world will end sadly if I simply can’t.
I left it on gmail and refreshed the page to check the new mails. Same as always, never changes. I get a lot of that junk mail too; which is weird because I got a bulk folder for that.
So many things have been really pissing me off lately. There's a lot of pent of shit that just needs to be said or come out. I can't wait anymore now. I didn’t know where to start. I thought about it, I don’t know. I’ve never done this before and nobody will know it’s me anyway so, why don’t I give it a shot?
I clicked out of my gmail and registered at livejournal. Now, this is like one of the first things that I thought of. Who knows if I might keep doing it; we’ll see how it goes after this one.
I registered under the name curlyfry, just to be a little anonymous at the same time. As everything was set up, I racked my brain on what to write in the first passage. Believe me I was scared. I wasn’t sure how these things worked. I assume it’s like a guy diary or something. I had the option of making it private or public. I guess, in a way, I wanted someone else to hear me, no matter who they were. I set it to public. I was taking a risk alright and I was going to go through with it.
I cleared my thoughts and tried to organize everything I wanna say starting from the first few words. I didn’t know how long this was going to be so I just kept going. My finger flied across the keyboard and I sunk into every word written.
Waiting For the Day
Mood: Anxious
11:48pm
I wish that were a song. Maybe it would be easier to live without people sometimes. It harder than anything to grow when there's animosity so strongly permeating air. I miss the days when I can just be open about things without compromising what I believe in. Its a strange world we live in. So many wishes made and so many just broken and thrown away. I miss simple life. I miss being content about life. The moments where its calm and you don't have a care in the world about anything. I miss my friends, sometimes I dream of a better life.
Writing in journals only solves half of the battle. Well, 25% in all honesty. I miss how nice and childlike my brother used to be. Everyday my siblings are turning into someone who can't feel. I can attribute that to one person. I wish sometimes my family wouldn't be so harsh about the things I do. I want to so much believe that another day will come and this one is just another layer forgotten. But its not, it builds you and destroys you all at once and you never get that part back.
I wish there was a way I could converse without using raised voices. I only want the best for the world, without sounding too much like a text book. I want the best for people I care about but what happens when it’s not reciprocated? Do we start over? Are we parasites in the madness of lies? I miss the simplicity in things. I miss my childhood. The freedom in it mostly...
Posted By: curlyfry
My fingers stopped moving. I didn’t bother looking at what I wrote as I hit the post entry button and waited. I felt a zillion times better just stating all this pent up rage. It was enriching, the feeling. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. Who knew just typing up this shit would change me instantly? I sure didn’t. I liked this feeling a lot.
I looked up at the top and placed my arrow over home. Just as I was about to click my cell phone rang right in my ears and my hand shook off the home frame. I stiffly reached over and shut it off. I just wanted to fling it at the wall. Maybe people would stop pestering me if I broke this thing.
I sighed and placed my hand back onto the mouse and clicked it back home. I noticed it didn’t go home. I saw several archival posts from other bloggers in columns and there was this specific on called “Never Changes”. It was in the featured side of the page.
I got curious and clicked on it.
Never Changes
Mood: Exhausted
11:38pm
Hey peoples,
Funny how I'm being surprised nearly everyday. Typical American attitudes thrown left and right and all I wanna do is say what I really think. You might think you know someone, and it’s the complete opposite and it’s not fair. Why me, I'm asking. But why ask when it’s obvious? It’s been the one thing I was trying to avoid. It really is me.
I cannot hold on to a friend if nothing else happened to me. But then there's a lot to think about with this one. Was it really my fault? No, people are just too paranoid to boot and will eventually turn into my worst enemies in a blink of an eye. Isn't that sad?
To be truly honest, the only reason I liked this certain music group was because I thought only one guy was hot. That's where it gets really sad. I'm so tired and burned out to pretend that everything is OK. I bottle too much because I put someone else before me always and I'm starting to hate that. My selflessness is killing me even more now and I'm losing support because I kiss everyone's ass. It’s not right, I know that now. I've always known that. But I was too clouded in this bubble to make a change. And now I know, you really can't trust anybody in this world. No one will truly understand who you are even if you spill everything at once before you could stop yourself.
It gets harder, the living part. I'm hardly suicidal but it’s not easy to ignore the option placed before me. My life has been one huge disaster after the next. With a mother who only cares if I turn into her, a sister who pretty does what she wants and gets away with practically anything, a brother who basically has everything handed to him plus expenses paid, and father who doesn't know the meaning of the word human.
I'm so tired now. I'm tired of trying to hard to be liked. I clearly am the only one I know who writes for me and yet everyone else is getting the fame and notoriety that comes along. Why? What makes what they have better than what I have to say? I have nobody but me; nobody else could decipher what's in my head better. Sometimes I fight to open my eyes. Dreading the moments that come blundering through the day. The bad, inevitable day displaying across my existence. I don't truly hate myself, I never did. All I wanted was solitude and peace. Just to find my own state of peace of mind without having to deal with everyone else's shit pushed upon me.
But I know it’s too late to find anyone who could equal me. Friends come with a price, now I know that. And the price is your soul.
Posted By: evergreen_iris
It was then I realized maybe I didn’t have it so bad. She could still be online, maybe I could talk to her.
Incomplete
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