New low.

I've thought suicide in a semi-serious fashion more regularly than i'm comfortable with in the last month or two.

I fucked up last semester.. Basically in Chem. Fucked up in the third exam, and then couldn't get the material together for that material's presence on the final. 2.5'd. :/
Caught hell at home. Makes sense. I get it, y'know? They pay, I fucked up. It wasn't intentional, or even slacking. I worked, I just misjudged.

So, I caught shit from the stock. Took it for all of winter break, and up until I left..
I redouble, right? Well, I change my attitude, cut everything, and a lot of my friends.. Re-evaluate. Sit in the front in all my classes, hang with all those people..
Clock in like, 6-7 hours of studying a day, right?
So i'm in decent shape for my exams the coming week.
I decide to stay on campus (the first time ever!) for the weekend and study with all the people and resources at hand.. nobody says anything, they're cool with it.
Come Thursday; i've clocked the usual, and i'm at the end of hour 5 for studying for the big Chem exam next week. I'm making progress.
Kafuckingboom, my father calls me randomly and starts FREAKING THE FUCK out at me, claiming i've fucked up, am not delivering results, haven't done shit..
MY MOTHER sided with me. My mother. She never EVER does that. It's unreal. That means that shit is  truly not my fault this time, honestly. I accept that every other time it has been, I get that.
So, he freaks. Then is like, "oh, nah, we're fine."
My mom and sister both tell me the same.
I get so confused and stressed by that, I just have to stop. I go eat, lay down, and sleep early, and have nightmares about suicide and failure all night.
So, big surprise, right, I wake up.
I'm getting over it.
Start putting in study time.. my sister decides she wants to Skype. I'm cool with that. I'm really close to my sister. We talk. My mom is around, we talk also. All is good.
Then my mom suggests i talk to my dad, claims he misses me. :/
So I try. He's being semi-jokingly mean to me, and i'm like, "he's just trolling cause I didn't come home to hang out with him."
Loses. His. Shit. Again.
:/
So now, i'm freaking again, having palpitations and shit.
And I just can't.
My palms are sweating, lump in the throat.
I feel like I need to run.

I just don't know.

I really, really want/need/plan to do perfect this semester.
I'm gonna get as damn close as I can.
Then i'm gonna ask them to cosign a loan for me, and move out.
Do this on my own.
I can't live under the dissonance.
It's my fault.
I'm weak, right, but.. What can I say? I've always had thin skin, I can't handle things.
If I do poorly.. I'm honestly worried that I won't be able to go home.

I considered, and am actually considering offing myself.
That's horrifying.
I even realize how cowardly that makes me seem, logically. I don't think i'm gonna do it. They say that the people that talk about it never actually do.
But I am thinking about it more than seems healthy.

If I do poorly, slip up.. I'm scared to say it might be an option.

If i hadn't stopped to type this up, I don't know what i'd do.

I wish I had made myself better before the consequences were this heavy.
I fucked up in the past, never atoned.
I'm weak for it.
Sometimes, I look back at that, feel the shame, and wish for death.

And that's pathetic, I know.

Disambiguation

Nobody is reading this. This is for nobody's benefit.

Maybe one day, it'll turn up as evidence, or something. I guess that's why I feel confident enough to write anything at all. I mean, yeah, sure, it's for teenage girls, or whoever has a social expression problem. But sometimes, I can understand my thoughts better when I can see them laid out. I follow written logic and statements more effectively. I get that from my mother.

It's November 7th, 2012. N7 Day, as it were. I'm seated with Jourdan behind me, and Eric beside me. She is playing the guitar.. he's doing.. Eric stuff.

I dunno. Sometimes, I think he's sociopathic, somewhat. Other times, I think he's just a normal guy, but.. I don't think he cares for me, much. That I do know.
Oh boy. There are a million productive things I could be doing right now. Learning lyrics, trying to write music, writing the papers I need to write, studying.. catching up.. Lots of things. But, really, what's to happen? I'll sit about, procrastinate. Well, maybe not. Of late, i've been guilting myself about the procrastinating.. We'll see. Anything to satisfy my hungry conscience. 

Today, I feel quite small. It's been a passing thing, but lately, it's been infecting me. It's probably a side product of dating someone as talented as Jourdan. Not to put it on her! She's phenomenal, and it has nothing to do with that. It might even just be a general lack of sleep or feeling of fatigue that i'm undergoing. I just wish that earlier in my life, or even now.. I'd put the time into doing something. Nobody told me it'd relate so heavily to confidence and enjoyment later. Jeez. I can barely drum, and I can't sing. I'd LOVE to sing, or be great at drumming. I work at it now, but.. really, not enough. Not with school forever looming, and.. well, I mean, i'm past my prime to learn things, or so says neurology. Actually, my mother. But she's quite an expert at these sorts of things. I just hate that i'm just not.. past good at any of this stuff. Maybe mediocre. It rubs. I want to do this for a living. I love it. I am an attention whore. I'm too lazy and not smart enough to make it in the medical profession, and I dunno that I want to. I want to perform, be known, make a mark. Be like my heroes. 

Okay, so, that's a lot to say, and even more to ask. Whatever. 

...

...

But even then, I work at it. I got into college and joined 2 more bands, and I won't pretend it's been easy. Dug my own grave? Yeah, so what? Go fuck yourself.
But really, I just didn't want to quit. Honestly, it's an effort to make the small go away, but to some level, I know that's because I never really commit to anything.

I always knew something was out of place. Ever since, in my teenage, and adolescence, I got girl-crazy. Stir-fucking-crazy. Never bothered with school. Like in anything else, I fucked around, and bumbled about until junior year. I realized, "I HAVE TO GO TO COLLEGE." As always, I scraped myself together last minute, spent some of my parents' money, and worked to get an ACT in order. Not bad. Got a 31, got into college, the one I wanted. Sure, I did that. But, the whole time, I have FITS going.. See, that's what I want to do. Really badly. We're playing with Hawthorne Heights. I knew they were popular. They were a name people used to say when the angst began.. That'll be something. It's a start. I mean, I know I can't spend money and expect to keep going. I want to get somewhere with it, or with the band I sing for. K as in Captain, hopefully, that'll stay the name. I doubt it.

I worked on a project for my Chemistry class. I could probably look my sources up for them. But fuck it, i'm bitching to the internet right now, school can wait.

I'm an attention whore. I began this blog with nobody's reading this, and i'm already fantasizing about how people could read it and see similarity. That's pathetic, I feel, but it's such a huge part of who I am.

School makes me feel hollow. I just wait and drift until the next time on stage. I hate that we got born into a time where we have to SLAVE it just to have a chance. I want to follow my dreams of music, like they did in the 80's, or something.
I wish I could sing, I guess i'd have to be able to do that first.. Or drum. Hah.

That project, though. Yeah, i'm working with 3 other people. One of them is the person I hang out with almost daily on campus. Her name is Kelly.

I am pretty sure she hates me, lmao. It's just there.

And something about me makes me want to make the people who hate me, not.

I hate being disliked it. I absolutely despise it. It makes me feel tiny, the little kid on the playground in 2nd grade, after the World Trade Centers fell. And she just vibes it.

I guess I shouldn't take it personally.

..

..

..

..

I do.

Always. Same way I compare myself to everyone. I am competitive, but not because I like to win. It's because that's how I establish a pecking order, and put myself somewhere, and give myself a reason to be confident. Same thing with music, etc. But I lack the talent and can't convincingly argue myself to be portrayed as talented to the public at large.

I can do that with other shortcomings.

But not this one.

It eats me lately.

I suppose not much can be done about it, and the show must go on.

Saturday, bring it here, and bring it on.

Good night, good luck, and carry on,