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Jim Carballo Mar 2013
i'm not him
although our names are similar, i suppose?
but we're very different.
one of the things is, he's the apple of your eye
he's there with you
and i'm stuck down here, in another state.
oh how i hope he doesn't take that privilege for granted.
i understand though, what's not to like about him?
what's there to like about me?
i'm not bitter. just upset.
because i was never really "over you"
i wasn't ever really "in love" with you.
i'm in love with the idea of being together though
oh, what a fairy tale!
i'm down here, suffering.
because i don't get the chance to see that lovely face of yours.
i'm not love sick, i'm dying for love.
your love,
oh how sweet it would be.
Jim Carballo Mar 2013
imahipsterbuffalo asked you:*
It gets better. I promise. You're not alone. You're beautiful and irreplaceable. Remember that.*

you tell that to everybody, don't you?
this seems so rehearsed, so calm. like you really don't care.
why even bother messaging me if you're not going to say anything original at all.
Jim Carballo Mar 2013
everything is dumb
gender is dumb
sexuality is dumb
school is dumb
everything is just dumb
why can't i just stay inside all day and sleep
i can deal with the bed sores
**** it i'd take those over algebra two honors any day.
why can't i just live how i like, without people telling me i'm wrong.
Jim Carballo Mar 2013
do you know how many times i have logged on to my blog
feeling weak
not feeling like scrolling through and liking pictures of cats.
and i just try to vent, you know?
get it all out.
but no. i get the dumbest messages.
"don't **** yourself! please!!! i love your blog too much!"
"NO!!! YOU CAN'T DO IT PLEASE DON'T BE DEAD YOU JUST CAN'T DO IT.
I FORBID YOU "
as if you could tell me what to do, as if my blog is more important to you than the actual person running it
please.
i delete the messages on the spot.
that's what i like about this site.
no one follows me, no one knows me.
i can talk and talk and talk all day and nobody will see.
Jim Carballo Mar 2013
suicide.
something i think about everyday.
but i won't go through with it.
i'd have to do a lot before i could even think about it.
i'd have to write a novel, to each and everybody whom i've ever interacted with
so they know how i was feeling at the time
and what i was thinking
so they aren't left to question.
i'd have to pick a way to die too of course.
i've thought of overdosing, lighting myself on fire, drowning, heck i've thought of it all.
but which is the way i want to go
i want my death to say something, about me
i want it to lead people to questioning
how was my life?
i want it to be unique
i only get one chance to die
may as well make it fantastic.
Jim Carballo Mar 2013
it really ***** you know, being afraid of every possible little thing that could and would and might happen.

it dictates my life, and just as soon as i feel like i'm going to break through this, and get better, and start looking forward to living, i slip and fall and have to start lower from where i was originally. the other bad part about this is nobody really knows, it isn't about family life or friends or school.

it's how i'm feeling inside.

it stinks.

why am i so afraid of everyone else

why am i afraid to just be myself?

why can't i get out of bed without thinking of immediate suicide?

why am i asking so many questions?

why am i too tired to pick up the knife, and lash at my legs.

heck i might even do it on my stomach

but no, that's too much work.

why must i worry about what others see on my body, it's my body, isn't it dumb how people will intervene, and make you feel worse

because you harm yourself?

it isn't their body, it's mine. mine all mine. the one thing in this world that is truly mine, that is truly ME. something i can create or destroy in a matter of seconds.

why do i have to be worried so much? why can't i just admit it? i'm a wreck.

all i am is broken, and you can try to fix me, and glue the pieces back together.

but in the end i'll end up breaking the same exact way, except this time with more cracks and shards.

everyone tells me i'm a coward, i have no bravery. i'm so cowardly that i feel like i have to die.

they don't understand how right they are.

why am i so afraid, of my friends?

people who constantly remind me that, they do in fact love me, every single day of every single week of every single month of every single year, they tell me that.

why do i not believe them? i get constant reassurance, is it just that hard to accept it?

no, it isn't.

i'm just being difficult.

i have to cut it out.

i'm nothing.

but a disease.
Jim Carballo Feb 2013
dear friend(s)
do not worry, about what they say
you aren't *different.

don't let them bring you down just because of your preferences.
it isn't your fault you like girls, or boys, or dress a certain way.
*don't believe them.
you are not a sin.
you are a child.
in love.

— The End —