anne frank without the annex

so here's something cheezy i wrote in december '06, because i am way too out of my mind to write anything right now. i guess i liked the word fruition back then too. whatever it's a good word. please be kind, i was young!:

Sometimes, I cry at night because I think of all the beautiful things I’ve thought and the fact that I think so many beautiful thoughts that I couldn’t possibly get them all down on paper when I’ve got so many other things I need to do with my hands. I wish I could have a recorder in my brain that I could mentally dictate to so that I could never forget a beautiful thought and maybe then I could listen to a beautiful song without my ipod. I cry because I think of all the beautiful thoughts I’ve had and fo

rgotten and that I’ll never get back and that to me is the saddest of all beautiful things- those beautiful moments we see and we feel and we think but we never bring to fruition. Those beautiful thoughts no one will ever get to see or share with you because they’re forgotten and even you will never see them come to life. I wonder who has thoughts like these- I wonder if I’m alone or if really we’re all like this and scared to realize that maybe just maybe no one is special no one is different we are all simply different shades of the same

Beautiful

therefore i am?

i am thinking about my sore throat and kierkegaard. i am thinking about the Boy's bony wrists. i am thinking about numbers and colors and green tea ice cream.

i am thinking i am going insane.

i am thinking out loud.
i am thinking that's a lie.



i am thinking about which scarf i will wear tomorrow. i am thinking about how it feels like i'm wearing a too-tight headband but really that's just my mind collapsing in on itself.


EDIT: i am legitimately talking to myself. i want to be a writer so badly but i am just talking (and writing) nonsense and i want to just shut up so that i can pour out clear sentences and maybe get someone to love me. i can sleep when i'm dead. i can sleep when i'm dead. i'm not dead yet. my face is burning up like when you blush cause you're embarrassed... i don't know why i don't know why i'm saying every word out loud.



i would NOT call this ART.