I've been crying about you, you know?

I have a headache.

I just really want to turn the computer off and not deal with any of it. Out of sight out of mind. But of course that won't work.

Nothing I say really makes a difference. I know it wouldn't make a difference if someone told me.

And I don't know the right thing to say. I don't know how to help. I don't know how to save you. But I have to try, right?

I don't know. Then you show me your new diary. If you make a new diary then you must be planning to stick around and write in it right?

I don't know anything.

And I feel so helpless..

Helpless.

And now you're not online. I shouldn't have gone offline myself. I should've stayed. I'm so stupid.

My mother will come home tomorrow. I need to do the dishes.

Maybe I should call the police.

I know what I should do. And it kills me. I'm killing you. I should get on that train. And be there. Somehow. But I can't. I just can't. So if you die then I know it'll be my fault.


Yeah, pardon the melodrama. It's just a bit fucked up here.

Through early morning fog I see,
Visions of the things to be,
The pains that are withheld for me,
I realize and I can see...

fuck fuck fuck

fuck

if you make it till monday

helpless

fuck

I sound so pathetic....

np: pumpkins - jesus is the sun