Tonight I sit here, at this glass desk, in this little 10 x 10 room, and I sense the strangeness of my life to me. I look and all I see is tan walls, tan carpet, a white door, this white monitor, and a glass desk. I feel so astranged from it all, like the desk makes me feel empty. There is no warmth in glass, now a wood desk oh yea there's plenty of warmth in that, and a homely atmosphere....but not a glass desk. The transparency reminds me of myself. Empty. Alone. Filled with remorse. The fact that no one ever reads this makes me think even less of myself. I was always one of those optimistic people, trying to smile and laugh and let everything just flow and go on by, whether it should or not. I always said "don't keep it inside" and now that seems to be all I do. Keep everything away from everything else, and everyone. Reclusive is what I have become. Insomnia has set in again, leaving even my eyes to seemingly drag me down, and yet extend the day as well. I don't know if it's because of recent events or if it's been there all along. Probably a little bit of both. I suddenly realize what Daniel used to feel like, and yet it's as if I don't want to change. Depression is always easy they say, putting effort out to become happy is the real challenge in life. Then how come it's so hard and it hurts so bad? Happy? Oh sure I could be happy if I wanted to, and there would be no effort involved. Just plaster on that smile, add a sparkle in my eye and I'm off to Happy Land. How can I make myself be happy when I can't seem to change my motivation? I feel like I'm two different people now, my personality finally split. In public, with my friends and family, I'm this sweet, adorable, innocent little girl who makes good grades and gets along with everyone--- I'm always smiling and laughing. Alone I'm this sad, angry, depressed female that just wants to yell and pray and cry and write her heart out to someone who doesn't even exist. I make up stories that I write down into books that are nothing but lies, lies about things I imagine happened or that I want to happen or what should have been, instead of what might have been. I know now that what might have been---- never was....Why is it that realists always are pessimist and idealist are always optimist? Why is the so-called "truth" always negative? Why can't I move on from this rut, this speed bump, this pothole! It's in my fucking way! My grampa once said to me, "You can't always go around the fence or climb it or even dig underneath it, sometimes you just have to pick up the sledge hammer and aim with all your might." Of course, that let to my destructive phase as a child, but that's beside the point. My problem is, I can't seem to find that damn sledge hammer, and when I finally do, what happens if I can't even pick it up anymore? My greatest fear isn't loneliness, death, speaking in front of a crowd, or some crazy incident, it's simply a broken heart.......not everything can be fixed. Sometimes once you smash that fence there are bad things behind you that you want to keep out; problem is, there's nothing to mend the fence that you tore down, so everything that you were running from is still there. Broken hearts.......I've had a few, but the older I get, the wiser I get. I try to learn from my mistakes and keep them from reoccurring. Too bad everyone else doesn't learn like me, because it still happens over and over........now I know how the rest of ya'll feel. Forgive me for not understanding, for I was ignorant in my ways.