it's too hard trying to be the perfect one, the stable one in a house full of imperfection. it gets to me. i'm so afraid of messing up, of them finding out that i'm not perfect. yet, it's gotten too easy to smile at them, too easy to get that 4.0, too easy to pretend like i love it here. i'm so fake to everyone around me. fake in that i seem happy with life to my friends at school, while i come home and cry on the bathroom floor with that piece of silver sliding across my skin. no one would ever know, no one would ever guess. and that might just be what scares me the most- that i'm too good at pretending to be someone else. so much, that i'm not sure who i am most of the time.
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Today is my 25th birthday, to my somewhat lack of surprise I can see already no one really seems to care. I've always been the kinda person to make sure that everyone I Care about feels appreciated and knew somebody had their back. I can count 4 times this year when I Went out of my way to make sure a "friend" felt good on their birthday, especially if they got left hanging. Its early in the...
theatre and I are there already. I'm having a very berry tea with crackers, cheese and cherry tomatoes and she's having a joint with some beer and we're both on really comfy recliners on thick pile carpet. we need some help with the decor if anyone is around??