witty-remark's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Teen statistic

Everything is worth nothing.

Just another angsty teen, right?

No. I scanned several entries (not my own).

Teens. That's all we are.

Different? Diverse? Experienced? Lost?
Loved? Hated? Alone? FUCKED?

Basically. We sit and bitch about life (similar to what I am doing now), where is the depth we saw within ourselves?

We looked into black wells and never cast stones. If we had, we would have heard the hollow response.
What is the point? You write in your diary. Hoorah. You read over some old entries. Hoorah. Then you do it again and again and again. Hoorah?

Here is a generalization of what we all have to say (and to think we thought that our voiced went unheard):

1) I hate myself
2) I hate my life
3) I hate happy people
4) I hate, hate
5) I hate love
6) I hate being alone
7) I hate being heart broken
8) I hate myself for hating myself

I hate being another teen. Another statistic, another fucking 'lost cause'.

Dear Diary,

We all have problems. So, how come when I type what I need, you never type back?

Is every fucking teen borderline suicidal? I'm not, but according to the "Conform to individualism" handbook, 'Declare independence just don't stand out'. Right, so I'm not suicidal but to be like the others I should pretend to be.

Don't you just love how real life fucking problems are turned into trendy characteristics?

"You slit your fucking wrists? Sweet"

Feed yourselves your shit candy. I'm sure that it's "sweet".
Sweet indeed.

11:38 p.m. - Thursday, Jun. 16, 2005

Then - Now