Me talking to humans is like an ostrich flying.
I talked to Rianna about this yesterday.
she told me I was an odd human.
I told her indeed very strange.
Stranger than most.
Then we talked. Very interesting conversation adopt the female kind and ostriches and flying.
All relating back to humans.
The only human I can talk to in person easily is Emily. I just have trouble approaching  her.
****...
That's really bad.
I can talk to someone but can't go up to them.
I can approach some girls but can't talk to them without stuttering.
Rianna approached me one day and randomly asked what's good?
I just stared blankly.
Felt like an idiot.
I can't talk!!!!!
Talking is not a talent that comes easy to me.
That's okay though.
I can observe.
It's okay.
I'm sure humans love me the way i am.
Even if I'm silence.
That's okay.
I'm okay.
For once in a long time I'm okay.
Don't know if it was the girl yesterday or a rush of mania.
Yes it could be mania.
Mania pushing me high.
This is where I'm dangerous.
I get mean when mania takes over me.
I change when mania holds me close.
Mania makes me social and unafraid because I have it to fear.
The effects it will have on me.
Mania strangles the depression then goes for me.
Mania is not good.

Yea it can be valued.
Yea it can hurt.
It's not always good criticism.
people can pick you apart for every little flaw.
That outfit makes you look like a boy.
Didn't know there were standards for dressing.
Mum I can start dressing exposed and female like.
Start going out in nothing at all.
How's that for female.
Just kidding.
I would never be able to walk out exposed and yeah no.

My body began to sink.
A wave of depression was sweeping me under.
I was low.
Back at the bottom of the ocean.
I had reasons on why I was drifting in and out of waves.
Being pushed by the currents.
Being drug farther down by my mind.
I shouldn't let myself drift like this.
I shouldn't let the waves of past push me down.
Too bad I don't control the ocean.
It controls me.
It decides if I will fly or swim.
Be caught in a storm or burnt by the sun.
That is reality for me.
This is reality.
The pain.
The silver blade breaking my skin.
The achohol drowning out the past.
The sleeping pills making me sick.
Then pain from people.
Friends ignoring me, not you Emily.
People acting like I'm a ghost.
The laughing.
Elementary school really ****** me up.
I think everyone is laughing.
It's killing me slowly.
I can't be in the same room as some people for fear one day I'll just break and beat the **** out of them.
God how I'd love makayla to do something so what happen in middle school can happen again.
Stupid lying jerks.
Afraid to trust.
Afraid to love again.
Unlovable?
That's a good description.
Untouchable.
That describes it...
Dead?
Spot on!

The gun to my head.
The bottle empty.
The cuts deeper than ever before.
The blood streaming.
Flooding my thoughts.
The words piercing me.
Singing to try to save me.
I am not going to be saved.
I can not be saved.
Not when my baby is ripped from me.
Not when my wrists bleed.
Not when I cry at night.
Not when I'm dead inside.
**** I really am broken.
I pretend to be happy.
Pretend to be over it.
Pretend to move on.
Well it still haunts me.
I still hear the voice.
It is ******* killing me!!!!!
I'm dead!!!!
I can't do this anymore....
I drink a little too much.
Cut a little too deep.
Pull the trigger a little too fast.
When you find me I'll be dead.
Sorry.