one step forward. nine steps back.

today, life grabbed me by the shoulders, shook me, double slapped me in the face and screamed, "don't you ever learn?!"

no, i don't.

mistake number one. i let my sister convince me that i needed new sneakers and therefore, i should come with her to her job interview, so we could go buy a pair (or two, possibly) at a store nearby. lesson learned: don't let people fool you. the world is a terrible place. mistake number two. i stepped outside of the house, into the sunlight. seriously, i froze at the front door and had to force myself to step into the light. it was pathetic. lesson learned: the more light you have, the more darkness you notice. stay in the dark. mistake number three, and possibly the biggest mistake of all. i kept walking, away from my last safe place, away from my haven of solitude.

today... was terrible. i've noticed that i can't have bad days when nothing happens, so i've stayed inside, mostly. but when things happen, they're bad. and i hate when bad things happen. first my sister said, "wow, you've got hips." and then, when i said i didn't want anything to eat at subway's, she said, "why is it you never eat but you're still bigger than me?" that's about when i realized i needed to get back home, because the emotionally neutral part of the day was ending. it's things like that that make my eyes open, from just seeing the world, to noticing things. like the girl who came on the train with her long, bright, flowing skirt. the wind whipped around her legs. they were smaller than mine. i looked away. (strange, how i can see these things but i can't see much else without my glasses.) after that, my mind started to twist and bend out of shape. i tried every remedy i could. i tried reading notre dame de paris, the tale of quasimodo as told by victor hugo. he's a character i can identify with. maybe that's why it didn't help. i tried listening to jeff buckley, but i felt like i wanted to cry, and i couldn't cry in public. so i turned him off. i tried playing video games, but i felt like i kept making mistakes. so i put my ds away. and then i tried texting my friend, the person i can be the most honest with. it was helping, a little. until i realized the answers that i wanted, he couldn't give me. so i stopped talking to him. and then i left my phone in the cab. didn't realize until i got home. and i called, called, called. but someone had already found it, and wasn't giving it up.

so i lost all my contacts.

i don't know if i was sadder because i really had no one to talk to at that point, or because i had no one to talk to before i lost it.

"isn't this what you wanted? now you've got it. complete isolation."

i swear, i tore the house apart, looking for that phone. i called it at least seventy times, growing more anxious with each call. once, someone picked it up, then they hung up. never happened again. i left a voicemail after that. i hissed, "i want my fucking phone back." and then i lost all control and screamed, "give me my phone back! don't fuck with pyromaniacs! give me my fucking phone back!" even if they did listen to that, i doubt anyone would respond. and when i finally realized i wouldn't get it back, i cried.

that should have been it. i could have lived with that.

but then my sister felt bad, since she dragged me outside, so she went to the mall to get me a new phone. and she had to wait for my mother to not only come home from work, but also to drive me to the mall with her, so she could authorize it or something. (we had to suspend it, since it was lost/stolen/missing/gone forever.) but on the car ride over, we heard about some poor boy who had gotten killed accidentally. he had two jobs, he was studying to be a teacher. he sounded pretty awesome. until my mom started comparing me to him. i don't have a job. i don't make all aces in school. thanks mom. for comparing me to a dead guy that we don't even know.

then the saleslady bitched at my sister and pissed her off.

then my sister insisted on buying this crazy expensive phone, even though she's broke too.

then she went and bought me sneakers.

and the whole time, i felt so guilty. none of that would have happened if i hadn't left the house. i didn't need new sneakers. my sneakers may have gaping holes in the sides and be ripped beyond casual repair, but they're still functional in average weather. i didn't need a new phone just yet. my phone was broken, yes, but i made it work for me. and i lost all those contacts. i just hope whoever took my phone doesn't harass any of them. and i hope the people i actually considered friends will try to contact me when they realize i'm not talking to them.

people want to hang out with me, that i haven't seen all summer. tomorrow. and thursday. i don't know if i'm up to it. but i can't cancel on them now. not just because i can't contact them, and have to go to where we're meeting, but i can't cancel on anyone again. not after i canceled on my little cousin and her birthday party. i didn't want to eat cake. (they probably got a vegan one, so i could have some too.) isn't that such a shitty excuse? i feel so fucked up.

i want school to start already. i want mind numbing routine. but this time, i don't want to go to parties, or spend time with people, or hang out after school. i want to get this job, near my school and near my bus stop. i want to get my license, so i won't need a bus stop anymore. i want things to get better. i want to stop pretending to be happy for people. i want to stop pretending i'm apathetic, when i'm overflowing with emotions sometimes. i want my sister to stop commenting on how much bigger i am than her, because just when i think i can't hate myself anymore, she makes me realize how much more i can hate myself. i want my nails to have color again. i want people to stop telling me i look better. i don't look better, idiots. i'm sick. i want to cry, or laugh, or really smile in front of someone, anyone. the only creatures i show any real emotion to these days are my dog and a spider that's taken up residence behind my desk.

i want to stop feeling like such a massive burden. i do my best to not be a problem, sometimes, and that just makes me a bigger problem somehow. i feel like my mom was nicer to me when i was out getting drunk and coming home at half past someshit in the morning. i feel like if i have any facsimile of a home left, it's only within the walls of my room. i feel like everyone's tired of me.

i know i'm tired of me.

i really need this week and next week to end. without anything else happening.

honestly.