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I had a random Tarot card reading preformed for me today. It decifered that I was acting obtuse, and that I needed to stop pushing for answers, that I needed to relax and just let things flow. That something that Iapos;ve been working for is being delayed and that I need to realize that it will be okay. I will achieve it, eventually.

I think Iapos;m going to start carrying a small notebook with me every where, so I can just write random things that cross my mind. Today was filled with odd accounts of deja-vu. My stomach for some reason hurts, extremely bad. Its that feeling when you know something is about to happen, it makes my jaw shiver, my stomach ache, the tips of my fingers turn to ice. I wish I knew what was about to happen. This feeling makes me want to vomit.

Its a day like this, where I wish I wouldapos;ve just turned invisible. So I couldnapos;t have been judged, by any one person, or group of randoms. I wish I wouldnapos;t have put on my makeup today, so that anyone that did see me, could see myself. I wish I wouldapos;ve worn a turtle neck so no one couldapos;ve seen my body, and judged me for the clothes I put on it. I wih my hair wouldapos;ve been up, so no one couldapos;ve witnessed it. Am I a hypocrite? Yes. To admit that, gives me justice, does it not?

If I dressed in a pink dress, would you see that in my car I have a pair of handcuffs? If I wore not an ounce of make-up, would you see that I really am pretty? If I never spoke a word, would you think me stupid? If I dressed in black, would you consider it mourning?

Iapos;m having some of those days where I feel trapped. I feel like a stranger within my own body. Why do I try to lead, when all I want is to be taken by the hand? Why do I paint my smile on? Does anyone really care if I do or not?

I asked a bunch of people a question. "Think of me. What do you see?" each person replied red, wavy hair. I like that, I want to have long red hair. But- is that all they see. Is that all -you- see? A silly red haired girl? Why does that give me the cupulsion to shave it all off. Why do I have strong compulsions to break, expensive glass objects?

Why do I feel like Iapos;m going to throw up? If you saw me on the street how would you define me? Why do I feel like Iapos;m an accesory to everyones happiness but my own? Why do I feel this way?

I donapos;t even know why Iapos;m asking why, to any of this. It will all seem as though it tiz a rhetorical question in the end, wonapos;t it? Youapos;ll read this. Youapos;ll think Iapos;m silly, young and niave. Wonapos;t you? Who are you?

Iapos;m getting all freaked out. I think Iapos;m going to move to Canada. I feel the compulsion to pierce myself in random places once again. What an odd burden I give into.

Iapos;ve been thinking about getting the insdie of my lip tattood...How stupid is that Right? I donapos;t know why...I bet you it would hurt. I have to write some stupid paper for english sometime this weekend. I probably wonapos;t. But- Thatapos;s a lie. Because I know I will I know that I will conform no matter how much I donapos;t want to be a fucking sheep I will. Iapos;ll walk in the lines provided, boy-girl most likely. Iapos;ll keep my mouth shut, and look no where but the ground. Iapos;m passive. I let them walk all over me. For what? Acceptance? Thatapos;s never mattered to me before? Has it?

Why does all of this matter to me? These lines? Abstract if they must be. Iapos;m freezing, my skin feels as if its tingling. I think I might actually be shaking...Am I having a panic attack? Maybe its the lack of vitamins Iapos;ve been getting? I donapos;t know.

How is it, that when people look at me, in the eyes even, that they donapos;t see me; Alas, I guess I donapos;t see them either. You know what I hate? When little girls cut their hair, so they look like they have a mullet Gah. Maybe thatapos;s just the hairdresser talking.

Am I asking for it, when I ask where has the magic gone? Why am I so terrafied to live?

Ever since I was small, Iapos;ve wanted these days to come. The days that lead to my life as I know it. Thinking about getting my own apartment, filled with everything Iapos;ve worked so hard for. Why do I feel so niave for wanting that? I feel like Iapos;m on repeat of that Chaplin song- Passionate Kisses. Man- I love that song. Do you think Iapos;m possibly sleep deprived? Nay. I slept for eleven hours the previous night. I feel like Iapos;m missing something. -But I donapos;t know what.

Maybe- just maybe...Iapos;ve literally lost it.

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