Saturday, May 07, 2005

...

So today was alright, in the beginning. I got cast in Justins show, which was no suprize to me at all. So I guess that was okay. We had a really good run of the show, which was okay. But something came over me when we went to Denny's. I don't know what it was, but it's still here. I just feel like I should cry. But I have no reason to. But something else bothered me after I started to feel down. It's like S can't let someone just be down. She has to be like are you okay? Did I make you mad? So when you are like nothing and no, but still all down, and everyone else is saying something to try to cheer you up, she has to start being all sad. Its not that I wanted the attention, it just drives me nuts when she does that. It makes me want to yell and say, everything doesnt have to be about you all of the time.

I also have been thinking alot about last nights entry. I'm so odd sometimes. But I was even odder tonight. I can't ever express my thoughts like I want to because I know someone will say something about it. But I couldn't help but think about weird stuff tonight. One thought that ran through my head over and over, is something totally morbid. Ive had it before so that wasnt the shock, it was at the time I started to think about it that kinda made me go hmmm. I have often felt that deep down in my heart I know that I will never get married. I feel as if I'll never have a family of my own. Not for the fact that I won't ever meet someone, I just get this overwhelming feeling that I wont make it that long. I have this feeling that I wont make it to be an old woman. I shall meet my death sooner than people here on earth should think I would. No I'm not suicidal or anything, just this feeling I have. It is a bit scary. Also I feel as if my death won't be of natural causes, like a heart attack or anything. I think it will possibly be an accident of some sort, or things of that nature. Man Im so messed up in the head. I don't know what is going on anymore. I just want these thoughts to stop.

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