I just read an online diary...

I read an online diary, and I feel so damn jealous right about now... I wish I could be more like this person, but this is not the healthy kind of jealous... I miss the times when I could just relay my thoughts indiscriminately, about anything and anyone, without giving a crap about anybody elses' thoughts. I wish I could go back to the way it was before things got f*cked up from all my stupid mistakes, when I didn't care and I could say whatever, knowing that consequences would not fall on me directly because I felt no need to be prudent. Now I do feel the need. Now I do see that things I do and say will affect those around me. And dammit, that's a big f*cking responsability.

I want to say their names, I want to say my own name, I want to feel myself get slapped on the face by the force of those opposing winds. They'll always be there, and no matter how far I go they will always be there, no matter where I hide their thougths will remain the same, so why do I even bother? Why do I feel the necessity to keep them appeased? for MY sake? hell no, I really don't give half a rat's cooked ass what they might think about me, they're more than entitled, but I do care about all the people in my life right now, the big people and the little people, who expect me to be someone, to be something more than I was when I was the invincible little bitchy drama queen. Sure her remains still ride with me through this life, but that's all they are, just ashes of my former self. They may stirr in the wind occasionally, they might get in my eyes every once in a while and blind me for a second, but they'll never be stronger than my whole person as I am now.

It's just that sometimes... I miss her. I miss them.

But I like myself better this way.

The child, the drama queen, they're still with me. But I am bigger than their sum, I am better than both of them put together, they're just parts of me now, dissolved and diluted, and I will show them just how far I can go, even with their pleading sighs and their temper tantrums. And even if my current wish doesn't come true, I will go on. It will be another dent in the armor, but nothing more. At least then I will be able to say his name, and nothing will matter. I might even tell him this whole mental deluge came about as a result of reading a stupid online diary... not even his...

I just don't have a good way to end this...