As I lay in my bed at 12:51 and listen to the music that patches up the holes in my soul I wonder what I am. If I am human or just a hollow shell because at this time I feel nothing. I only notice an empty feeling in the area that my heart is supposed to be. How can others be so carefree. How can others be so ignorant to the horrors of their own mind. Oh how I envy that ignorance. Is something wrong with me? I understand this might just be a "phase" but it hurts so bad. It feels so real. Mother says that she thinks that I'm fine. I think she is finding it hard to believe that I am not happy. I just have moments of joy that is quickly diminished by my thoughts. I don't know what to do or say. I feel so selfish. I can not tell a living soul about my feelings, but I can tell the paper. The paper, the keyboard is always there for me. Especially when my own heart has disappeared.
/k.p./
