black sheep.

and not the kind that soothes you to sleep.

shitdamn. i am that angsty person. who felt like a lesbian because she asked a girl to qdoba and called someone that she didn't know well enough beautiful. who ate a burrito alone and then played some chopin after her steady chocolate heart sugar-buzz wore off on the closing of another valentine's day that really just needed to be over. because she broke up with her boyfriend two weeks before. yup. feelin sorry for myself. who a few nights before burst of self pity into spurratic tears and researched mood disorders. who needs her sister, but her sister is too busy with her boyfriend and important life to check if she is feeling better. im not, by the way. mostly lonely. realizing that no one is really in these shoes... i really wish i could explain it to you. i do. but i cant. and even that sounds angsty. but when i feel so alone who am i supposed to go to if the people that i want to cant understand? get over it. move on. push it down. i fucking cant okay? and its not about a goddamn boy. i am just the sarcastic instigator. not the lonely, hurt one. hurting. i am not my problems, but sometimes it feels like it. so i listen to bach as a i sit in my bed because i couldnt go to class today. because i couldnt care enough to walk over, to present myself. cancel all my appointments that ever happened. i am done. i want to write music. instead i have to write a fucking bibliography. leave me falling.