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That's how I feel when I really need to write but I don't have the words.
This is what fucking high school does to me.
And I really want to start using the word fuck more in my writing because it's such a strong word, to me. It fills up the space with feeling. When somebody says "fuck", your heart stops. You skip a beat. You pause. I want to make people pause, look at me, see me as meaner. I want to write mean. I don't want to sugar coat and be nice and play games. Fuck, writing isn't for games it's for truth. It's for expression. It's not meant to sit there and skirt around the point, it's meant to hit the point right on the head and make it scream. Writing is supposed to make others hear us scream. It's supposed to make you fucking listen. And it's supposed to let people like me, people that are writers, it's supposed to let us fucking talk for once. That's what writing is supposed to do. I want people to feel the need to respond to my writing. Because if people want to talk to you about something you wrote then you wrote something good. If people want to have a fucking conversation with you then you've done your goddamn job.
So I guess...
and I was just going to write a sentence with "So I guess..." but I fucking hate when I say that, because I say that all the time, in my writing. Like how the fuck is that supposed to make a fucking point?
It's not. "So I guess" doesn't make a point. And I'm trying to make a point here with all my fucks and damns. So I'm not saying "So I guess" I'm saying, I'm fucking saying that I'm saying.
And so: I'm saying I hope you all want to talk to me.
There.
Wha-la.
Fuck this.
And I swear to God I'm not even mad right now I just made myself mad by writing this so now I guess I'm mad.
And now I'm even more mad because I just said "I guess".
I refuse to guess.
And the problem with school and writing is that my best work only comes out of me when I'm inspired and when I'm not inspired it's all shit. Like this. My stuff is so all over the place.
Also, like question for the world right now, who the hell decided I was good at this? Seriously, were you joking?
I'm worried about me and I'm worried people worry about me and I'm worried about other people who never worry about me and I'm worried nobody ever worries about me and I'm worried I'm not worth worrying about and I'm worried nobody thinks all seriously like I do and I'm worried everybody thinks all seriously like I do.
And I always wonder when I see strangers with brown hair and big noses if it's her. And my breath catches in my throat and I wait for them to say their name because fuck if it's her...
I've been waiting for this. I've been playing what I would say over and over again in my head but the problem with that is that you never say anything you imagine yourself saying and you always sound dumber than you are and I always, always sound dumber than I am so I definitely would in that situation but that situation would never happen.
Melissa, it is never going to happen.
You're fine, you're fine, you're fine.
And I remember when those guys walked in on you cleaning the men's bathroom and just pulled their fucking dicks out anyways like is that a fucking joke?
The universe has got one hell of a fucking sense of humor.
That's for sure.
And I don't know what the hell that dog has got to do with anything.
Maybe my serious thinking thing.
There, it's justified.
Now I've got some shitty writing for school to go do.
