I am not good enough. I am too much a perfectionist to ever be pleased with anything less than perfect scores, perfect performances, perfect success, perfect social endevors, everything. Perfect everything. But I am too much a fool, too much a string of mistakes, a girl without enough talent, enough beauty, enough charm, with far too many expectations.�
I am unhappy. I am not proud of myself, not of my endevors, not of my persona. I have not accomplished enough. I have let too many people down, I have let myself down too many times. I have been let down too often.�
I am my own worst critic. And I have so. Many. Of. Them. When they are not yelling, glaring, tearing me down, I am. I can't let myself make mistakes and learn from them. I can't handle mistakes.�
All I care about is pleasing others. I can't handle thier dislike, their dissapointment, their anger and hatred and whatever else. I spend so much time trapped in a snow globe, alone, in a blizard, lost. I need to breakaway from this, from this dustruction, this saddness.�
I am too fat. My stomach is too fleshy, my thighs too flabby, my butt too huge, my calves too muchular, my skin too uneven.�
I am too plain. My cheeks are too puffy and wrinkled when I smile. My mouth is too big, my lips too red. My breath smells too much of coffee. My eyes are too small, my forehead too large. My hair is too plain. My makeup is too dull. My hands are too fat, my nails too short. �My knuckles bulge stupidly, and the skin around them is too stretched. My feet are too dry, two sizes too big.�
I am not fit enough. I am not good enough for my sport. I am too breakable, too injured, too weak, too suceptable, too unbalenced. My butt is, once again, too large, my weight too high.�
I am not a good enough student. I am too busy, too stupid, too distracted.�
I am not a good enough singer. My voice is not sweet enough, strong enough under pressure. I am not fearless enough. I am too shaky, too nervous. My peers are always putting me down. I begin to wonder if they are right about my voice- to weak, too small a range, too nasely, too unprecise, too stuck up, sticking out too much for choir, too unfourtunate for solos.�
I have no control over my life. It is a desprate situation. I want out. Out of this town I used to love. I want away from my family. I want everything to be diffrent. Why can't I have the things I so despratly desire, the things I despratly need? I need acceptance. I need encouragement. I need forgivness. I need loyality. I need understanding. I need love. I need aggreement.�
I don't know if I shall ever find it.
Quote of the day: right now, all I've got is this lonsome day.
The kingdom come i'm gonna find my way though this lonsome day.�
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We gotta get out while were young cause baby tramps like us, baby we were born to run �