I hate it. It always betrays me, makes me do the craziest things. Like believe he'll ask me to homecoming. Get my hopes up and watch them crash at the bottom. It's too much for my brain to handle and I don't know how. But it's not just that is it? No. I'm a Drama geek. And yeah, I'm super proud of that. Why am I such a good actor? Because I act every day. Right in front of you. That smart, happy girl? She died a long time ago. Who has taken her place? Me, the idiotic, depressive kid. Most people express that through clothing and words and drawing. Here it is: I'm not talented. I can't draw. I can't rhyme. I'm too scared to dress like that. To express anything other than the given standard. Too scared to tell you how I feel. Too scared to tell Joseph I have the biggest crush on him. Too scared to stand too scared to say anything as myself. The only thing keeping me sane is this. Anonymous ranting on the internet. How pathetic can I be? Too scared to show anyone my wrist where my olive skin is stained red. Too scared to ask you for help. To tell you before I leave. This is as close as I'll ever get. And thank god I don't have to explain myself to people in real life. I'd never be able to. I just have to go back to school. Hide in the bathroom. Cry for an hour. Redo my makeup and go to class. Say I felt a little sick but I'm better. Because nothing seems to work out anymore. And I don't see the point in trying. In staging another happy girl. What am I gonna do? What I always do. I'm about to cry myself to sleep and wake up, do my makeup, and head to school tomorrow. I'll paint a set and figure out lighting for a balcony. I'll fix a sound system and smile when someone cracks a joke. I don't find it funny. I told you I didn't want to go home. Drama class is the only time I can focus on being something else and not feel guilty. I can laugh and not be faking. Read my script and correct people on it. Get paint in my hair and nail wooden boards. I told you I didn't want to leave. But you asked me why I was there in the first place. So why are you surprised Natalie killed herself? And why do I miss her so much? I knew her for like s week. This is unreasonable. I don't understand why she's not at rehearsals. She should be here. She should be here.
