my dad left for a business trip this morning, and i watched him go with the unsettling feeling that he is going to die.

my father needs an oxygen compressor, which is basically a thing that filters air into its components, and sends oxygen to him via cannula. He is going to new jersey, and due to a few stupid complications, he cannot take his compressor, nor his oxygen tanks with him. whenever he goes for a long time without his oxygen, he turns blue because his respiratory system is incapable of providing his body with enough oxygen to keep its organs functioning.

i don't want my daddy to die.

Just FYI

I have to go camping. For a week. Starting tomorrow. I will spend seven days surrounded by drunk and angry family members while being sucked dry by mosquitoes. I will not be posting during that time, as I will have no internet access.

I expect I am going to be doing a lot of reading.

Hello, Happiness, my old friend. Did you miss me?

I feel good. I feel happy. I know it's just a mood swing, in a few minutes my mind will turn against me, but I don't really have the ability to care. A lot of things are going well in my life. I've lost weight, I cut my hair, I'm seeing friends tomorrow for swimming and horror movies, life feels manageable for the first time in a while.

Next spring I'm going on a trip to the UK with some of my schoolmates and fellow literature enthusiasts. I am going to spend ten days surrounded by books and rain and fantastic accents, and by fantastic accents, I mean fan-fucking-tastic accents. We are going to Scotland for part of it.

I am happy, and I don't really have much more to say about it.

i know you're all getting tired of my shit, but i have to do this.

i don't want to be here. it would be so easy, you know? like falling asleep. i swear i can feel something. something dark. i want to call it a demon, but it doesn't feel like a demon. it feels like a hug. like there's something there, just beyond the cusp of my reality and it's wrapping its arms around me and whispering sweet nothings into my ear, just holding me and comforting me, hooking its chin over my shoulder and snaking warm, strong arms around me and keeping the broken pieces of myself together, but every time i try to get closer, there is nothing there.  i'm tired of there being nobody there. for once i want somebody to not have to ask, to just hold me because if you ask, i'll say i'm fine, but i'll be lying. i want somebody to just know.

i wrote a thing

days run out and nights run dry
the bottom of the bottle is as empty as your eye
one by one and two and three
all the sailors go out to sea
sing and laugh and live and thrive
dancing to the siren's cry
crashing waves and stinging foam
not a single one comes home.

false happiness

False happiness is such bullshit.

What makes it false? Drugs, alcohol, self harm, they all release dopamine into your system. Dopamine means happy. So why is it false?

Chocolate also releases dopamine. Does that mean that the happiness you get from eating chocolate is also false? What about a kiss? Is that false happiness?

That's why it pisses me off when people say that people who do drugs or who cut aren't happy, that they just think they are. The happiness they feel is as true as any you might experience. We don't have enough happy in our lives, so we do what we need to to get more. That's what I think people are addicted to. It's not the drug. The world is addicted to happiness. We need it, we crave it, we can't live without it. So we get it. From things that happen or things that we make, we get it. So don't say that my happiness is any less real than yours. It may not be good, but it's real.

apparently they need to have a fucking title now

I need to do something. Anything. I need to run, walk, something to take my mind off of itself. I need to go out back, but my mother is there and she will take one look at me and want to talk, and I don't want to talk, I want to do. Why can't it be night already? Then I could go out and the sun wouldn't burn and there wouldn't be people who want to talk or who want me to smile and I wouldn't have to do anything. When did I become so fucking antsy? I wasn't always this fidgety. Or maybe I was. I don't know. Dammit dammit dammit dammit fucking hell stupid people and their stupid fucking thoughts why can't they stop and leave me alone and stop pitying me and just stop. fucking damn it all. I need to punch something but I can't punch the wall that ended badly last time I need to rip something to pieces and hear it scream. I need it to be warm and gushing I need to rip and tear and kill. I need to hurt something. I want to hurt something.

I scare myself sometimes.