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Post by francois jonathon lucielle on Mar 18, 2011 17:51:52 GMT -5
'cause these words are my diary screaming out loud AND I KNOW THAT YOU'LL USE THEM HOWEVER YOU WANT TO • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •Okay, so I’ve never had a Diary before. This should be…interesting, I think? Maybe? Oh well. Just, I warn you. I bitch, a lot, so you my dear old friend will be getting most of it. Okay, so, I need to vent.
Life is terrible. I can’t deal with much of anything anymore and it’s bothering me a lot. I’m breaking down left and right and I can’t handle this. I hate America. It’s stupid. Horrible. I want to go home. I want to see mom again, but I know I can’t. I don’t understand why she sent me to a spy school. I understand she works with the Government, but me? Really? I can’t do anything but dance. Dancing seems to be the only thing I do lately. I’m practically killing myself with it, but I don’t care, it’s the only thing that makes me happy around here.
Well, that’s not entirely true, there are people around here who make me feel happy. Complete almost; but yet broken at the same time. I’m so torn between so many things and I don’t know which way to turn anymore. I danced until I literally collapsed today and could move no longer. Maybe that will make the trainer happy. Maybe that will make someone happy.
I just want everything to stop and go away, and I want to go to someplace I can call home. I’m currently smothering myself with a stuffed whale my mom got my from Sea World a few years ago, since I had nothing else to bring here with me.
Plus I’m already getting attached to people. It needs to stop. I need to get over this.
I really need a hug.
Francois
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Post by francois jonathon lucielle on Mar 22, 2011 16:36:07 GMT -5
'cause these words are my diary screaming out loud AND I KNOW THAT YOU'LL USE THEM HOWEVER YOU WANT TO • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •Life is disgusting. I hate everything so much right now. I don’t think I have ever beat myself up over something so much until now. Is that sad, Diary? Can you tell me? Can you tell me my lies are the truth? That everything I say is real and it’s not all make believe? No, you can’t, no one can. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go. Leave. Go home. I have never felt so…so, angry, before. I don’t like anger. I don’t like guilt, but yet I feel so much for it.
My dance trainer has completely syphoned everything out of me. I can’t feel anything anymore, literally. My legs are numb. My head is pounding. My body hurts all over. Oh, and the nurse says I might need stitches. Wonderful. Just another scar I can add to my body, right? No big deal, right? It is to me. I’m already repulsive. Disgusting. I don’t know why I just keep getting more of them. I don’t understand what I did that was so bad to deserve so many grotesque marks like these. In the Headmistresses’ office, when Draven took me there, the nurse wanted me to remove my shirt and I nearly had a panic attack right there. I can’t bear to let anyone see these…these things on my body. I refuse to let Draven of all people to see them too. He’s done too much. He’s been too nice. The last thing he needs to see are these beautiful little rips and tears all over my body.
This guilt is unnerving. I feel terrible. I have become the definition of a burden. Here Diary, why don’t you go look it up in the dictionary, huh? Look up Burden; it will say Francois Lucielle in large red letters probably. I don’t even know what I feel anymore. It’s not fair. It seems like life has just spiraled out of control more since I got here, and I hate it. I feel like I can’t trust anyone.
I want to go home. I don’t like being alone anymore. I don’t like sitting in my dorm throughout the entire night with no one. I don’t like being left alone to deal with my thoughts.
I miss my mom. I’m pathetic I know; but I can’t decipher anything I feel anymore.
I miss Draven. Make him come back Diary. Make him stop hating me.
You don’t even have to make him stop hating me.
Just…just make him come back.
Please.
Francois
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Post by francois jonathon lucielle on Apr 7, 2011 15:22:33 GMT -5
'cause these words are my diary screaming out loud AND I KNOW THAT YOU'LL USE THEM HOWEVER YOU WANT TO • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •So, I’m in pain right now. My body is still hurting and I don’t really know quite what to do with it yet. I have major difficulty dancing; it’s so…foreign to me. Not to be able to get onto my toes…not to be able to support my own body weight. I wonder Diary, does anyone else know of this feeling? Does anyone else experience life the same way I do? Probably not, no one else seems to be as much as a wreck as I am. Which is surprising to me, but ya’ know, shit happens and people move on. Tell me Diary, do you think I have moved on? Do you think I am on the road to becoming sane? Probably not, and oh boy, I have to tell you something before I explode.
So, remember my little German friend, Draven? Well, yeah, so I kind of like him. Like, a lot, and I don’t know what to do about it anymore. I’ve resorted to shallow petty means of avoiding eye contact with him, avoiding seeing him; I guess I'm avoiding him all together. I don’t want to avoid him…I really don’t, but I have to. I have to find a way to make myself forget him. Maybe I can get him to hate me. Maybe if I physically hurt myself enough, he will finally drop me on the side of the road where I belong.
But…part of me wants him to not stop caring. Part of me wants him to hold onto me and never let go…but it can’t- won’t ever happen. I’m not stupid Diary, nor am I blind; he does not like…erm…my type. He probably likes someone else in this school. Someone who looks better than me. Someone who he can tolerate. Someone better than me.
I just…I’m at my wits end. My body hurts. My mind hurts.
I’m going to go dance or…whatever it is I do to give myself meaning in this world.
Au revoir.
Francois
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