16/2/07
Having discovered the world of Gaia on Tuesday and now lived through the first valentines day since that b*****d ex-boyfriend, things are topsy-turvey. On the one hand this site is a goldmine of boredom relief. On the other, there is so much valentines stuff around I'm drowning in it.
The only reason I tried so hard with the little 'kiss me' buttons was because it was something to do to give me reason to concentrate. But now that I've reached goddess and have discovered the fact that I can only recieve those silly necklaces, it all looks kind of pointless.
Then, of course, there is the hope of having someone to talk to online. But it seems tonight I am feeling too deep for the poor artist and have to back off. Being a writer is so hard when no one understands the ideas behind your work. I sent her a message about a story I'm writing that made little to no sense and she complained of only being able to find writer friends.
Sometimes I tend to think towards what it would be like to have one of my stories published, or even read. Then I realise how s**t they are and it's like the whole day is ruined. In fact, these stories are ruining my entire life.
Year ten is not the year you want to be daydreaming, esspecially with the unit 3/4 subjects right around the bend, and yet that's all I can concentrate on. On the bus from home to school, in class, during breaks, at home, I'm always ingrossed in some fantasy that will never come true.
Just today I told myself my name was Juana, a guidance councellor at my school with a fluency for Finnish and an adopted brother named Emerson Burton, keyboardist for HIM. It was a totally stupid idea. Fan-fics are not the sort of thing anyone is really interested in, they just want the lurid discriptions of random, imaginary characters making out with their favorite out-of-reach characters.
I sound like a pessimist, don't I?
Well, I am. Everyone is entitled to an opinion and mine is that life is worthless. We live, we love, we die, all for the singular goal of becoming what no one has ever dared to dream of becoming. Everyone just wants to be recognised.
No, I'm not different from everyone, in that respect. I am a loner at school and a freak in my own home, but I'm not different. I just don't have the courage to speak up, or the will to do something about anything. Writing is my release, whether people read it or not.
Numerus times I have been asked why I write so many stories, just to have them gather dust in the ranks of files on my laptop. I say it's for myself, but I don't have anything else to say to them. Around people words fail me and I end up dropping into the background. I'm a failure with permanent marker on the back of my hand, a futile attempt to show my love of HIM.
Life is so hard. Why should death be any easier?
Ideth Community Member 
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