Random thoughts

Writing

  I have this book, where I just like write down quick things that I can add to stories later, and in it of course I have quotes... why wouldn't I... anyways, I read through them

  I honestly think I was meantally ill. Letting things stain my mind... burn me alive... I didn't even cut at that time yet.

  Shit

  Okay

   So... yeah, I wrote this huge. I mean freaking huge book. That thing is like my child, I love it... and somewhere I had learned that I write best when I listen to eminem...

  I downloaded probably, pretty close to all of his songs... they fueled me. They made me say, feel and write things so dark... I could feel the impact of the words. I would sit in my seat typing away, while quivering with anger, or fear, or rage. I shoke, my teeth chattered. All because of music, and my own words.

   I want to fucking read my story now.

   But, I was dark. I was dark with out knowing. I thought deep, intense things... I was a creep... probably still am... but everything just became normal to me.

  I came up with quotes a professional (probably wattpad level) would produce... going back to my chapter about being scared...

  That stayed in me.

  Some of it left, for I've deleted most of my eminem songs. I prefer not to torture myself anymore. But I still have some I listen to to get ready for games.

  But, I still think deeply. Not as intensely, not as good quality-ly. For I've lost my good grammer, and my way with words j once had... but I still find that groove.

  That writing mood. Like the one I'm in now

   Writing mood

  Any time I heard a song that was deep, meaningful, powerful, eminem. I'd be like I'm in a writing mood. Told my friend that when I'd write paragraphs as a reply to a simple question...

  Looking back on it now... breaking it down..

  I used that as an excuse. I used that to hide my true feeling of sorrow, or rage. It worked... possibly.

  But I used to be really good. I mean, I think I was a really good writer...

  Say I'd screw up in softball, I'd be deviated because we had team problems... some hot heads... some depressed girls... is be sad, regretting

  Then what did I do?

  Something smart.

  I wrote, channeled it into my story, made it seem good...

  I wish I could read my story.

  I wish I could work on it...

  But... why should I?

  Nobody cares about it

  But... that doesn't really matter now... I've lost my skill, I'm just some babbling teen... fuck, I can't even write the right things on here.

  I'll help you, write about quotes, rant.

  Only thing I'm doing is explaining my dull life story...

  I'm sorry.

  I feel like I let you guys down...

  I'm stupid.

  The only reason I do it, is to get things off my chest so I might be able to stand myself... ugh...

  Yet, I still save, then hit that publish button...