Hmm.

[shockingalberto]

Leave me an anonymous comment pouring your heart out. Say anything. Tell me your stories, your secrets, those things no one ever asks but you wish to tell. Tell me about your love, your hate, your indifference, your joy. Tell me about what's inside of you when you're reading through these entries on your friends list, and tell me why you continue

Comments

[anonymous]

I'm an RPG whore!

[anonymous]

It's never hard to figure out who I am. I think I'm like an open book to everyone--painfully readable. Painfully boring.

I feel terribly lost. I feel dependent and needy. I worry that I've been depressed for most of my life, and have been busy trying to stay on top by controlling everything I can just to keep from seeing that beast beneath the surface. I worry that I'm clique. Passe. Ridiculous. Last night I cried and admitted that I'd thought briefly of killing myself when I was sure that no one wanted to be near me. Last night I cried and wondered if I should be on medication.

Where am I going? Can I ever run far enough to escape my childhood?

I want to be hit on. I want to be found attractive.

I want to know where all my friends went.

[anonymous]

I bought a pack of cigarettes to smoke in secret the other day out of pure spite.

[anonymous]

I come back to read because something about you seems very genuine. I like genuine. I know your faults and I know graces, and that's somehow charming.

I like you, but not romantically. You're a good friend. I should see you more.

[anonymous]

Last night I wanted to go to sleep but I could not stop thinking because everytime I would lie down I would stare at my cieling for a good hour without blinking and would just keep thinking and thinking and thinking. So I grabbed a bottle of Johnny Walker that always conviently left around my house and I drank until I vomited and then I drank more and more and more and I passed out in the grass. It was wet and cold and I'm sick now.
The end.