It's constant.

The crying.

Like a scene on repeat, and I can't turn the TV off.

I feel lifeless.

I want to be the pendulum swinging beneath a broken bridge over cold rushing waters.

I feel drunk.

Without being drunk..

I hate what happened.

I don't want this anymore.

Even if I do manage to fall asleep...

I have to wake up and do this all over again.

Never escaping this nightmare.

And continuing to cry.

Every day.

If friend groups and cliques played a major role in anything, school definitely takes most of the blame. Because when you get down to the truth, people are awful.

We are just, the worst. So don't go trying to chase a utopia where we all do good by each other, because we can't. We don't ever take the route we would actually prefer in life.

Why is that? I don't know.

Like I said, people are awful. And there really is nothing you can do about it.

Okay, you what saves my soul? Laughter.
Because even when I know somebody isn't talking to me, their laughter still exists. Hearing joy and knowing that someone is okay, words aside.

And for me, that will never be enough to satisfy my loneliness. But it has to be. For their sake.
And for some reason, I still hold out hope. The slightest bit of optimism. Why? Maybe because I can see it when eye contact is made for barely 5 seconds.

I can feel us wanting to fix everything. But for some reason... we don't?

And maybe we never will. And that will never be okay but it has to be. It doesn't make sense, it never will. And that's just my life. But I don't want this all to seem like a bad dream. Because I'll just look back with regret.

And I can't live like that.

It would **** me to do so.

History.

Never really the highlight of my day. But always a stand out part of my day. Always structured the same way, never changed, but not boring. It's the kind of repetition you get used to, and for me, sometimes I'm thankful for it.

Hell, something has to stay the same. And with everything that's happened, I'm glad some things never change.

Or some people.

Dear God, nothing ever does come easy. And nothing ever will from here on out. So I'll just give in to my fate. Changing everything. Or nothing at all.

You know some looks could definitely ****. I don't have that gut to just be inherently evil. Although I seem to be that anyway. I don't have the strength to look over my shoulder. I have too much shame in that.

It's like a tell, there is no breaking it. And it *****. The voice is enough to throw me off.

I cannot shake this. It's just one event right? One semi-life-changing problem that took its toll on everyone involved.

What have I done? What can I do now?

Is there such a thing as starting over? No. Not really.
Because unless we all induce amnesia on what happened, we do not forget what happened. We still hate each other. And the pride that comes along with that is nothing short of destructive.

If you're right, you're right. And if you're right, I have to be wrong.
And I am. I'm mature enough to acknowledge and wear my shame like my checkered shirts.

There is no such thing as a happy ending. We make mistakes, people don't forgive, we die, we fail, we do everything to deny our failure. And if we don't... then we carry our shame with the entirety of our shoulders.

After 2 weeks of being away from school, here I am again. And if I'm going to live through this week, I should tell you right away, it is going to be hell.

It's already eating at me and I am doing my best to pretend I'm okay. Because what's the use of feeling like nobody can fix me?

Because nobody can. I'm so broken that it's funny. Yeah, I can laugh about it. I already have. When I poured out my pain to my mom I was laughing and crying.

But it quickly turned from funny to just sad. For... a multitude of reasons. I think I'll keep the keys around my neck just to prove a point. That I can showcase my pain without anybody really caring. So... what now?

There is nothing I can do, the friendships aren't dependent on my actions. They never have been. I guess one thing worth mentioning is that I redo the sharpie on the key everyday. Just to keep it clear and legible.

And because forgetting this doesn't seem to be an option at this point. And my stubbornness in forgetting is... there. But that's always been a part of my life. So I distract myself with my work, however boring it may be.

And it's not all boring, but it is more than effective when it comes to my mental state. It's exhausting. But it works. And that is... enough?

Probably not. Ugh, nothing is making sense. I'm at a loss for once in my life. A loss of... well... what seems like everything. And for a teenager yeah, my situation does seem very "end of the world" like. But I try desperately not to overreact. But I do. And I will.

When walking through a gravesite, you forget that several feet under lies the body of a person you may or may not know.

I have a surname and plot number...

This could have been my family.

Maybe it is.
Maybe it was.

I don't feel worthy enough to sit in the grass before the tombstones.

To place my hands on the stones... they're so cold.

I've read the inscriptions.

Never forgotten by wife and son.
Faithful unto death, may he rest in peace.
A soldier of the great war.
Known unto God

Known unto God

Known unto God.

I have a surname and a plot number written in roman numerals, somebody tell me where I can find the plot under the number 30.

I ran through the gravesite only to find 29.

And I ran out of time.

So tell me where I can find him.

After all... an unknown family wrapped in a common surname is all I really know.