I fuckin get it Mr.X, you can draw a straight line, get off my back!!!!
Girls can be spaz’s, and I take the cake for being the biggest spaz of all. I overanalyze a situation, scrutinize it if you may with a fine comb only to get a web of lies, and thin air with no meaning but the thoughts that I conjured up in my head. Fantasies. I think it may be because I have an overactive imagination, but I have the capability to take only a few words and conjure up worlds.
Call me an idealistic, I have dreams, fantasies, untold stories waiting to blossom from the pit of my brain, but I lack the science to bring my idealistic thoughts to life. I live in a world where romanticism reigns but does not evolve because it lacks the industrial foreground keeping it sane. I take things too far, think too much of something, make it into something that it is not. I look at myself at times and see that I can be too emotionally invested in too many things, academics, relationships. I scare myself at times as to how insane, and crazy I can be with an imagination that has no bounds, no gates to pull it shut when it has gone too far. My imagination should be locked away in a far away tower guarded by a fire-breathing dragon, and a witch named Mother Gothel (sorry I was watching Tangled). I sometimes lead things on only to be left stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing left but words that hold morbid lies, and no truth can revive the thirst of my hurt heart, but me, for I have no excuse for my brain that plays tricks with my emotions; juggling it as if it is an invaluable piece of shit.
You may be wondering, Scarlet, what now. I lie and say nothing, but let’s face it, I wouldn’t be typing such dark words if not for an event that close to made me cry (well it did in the end). For many today, it was a day of liberation from a spiraling hurricane of calculus, vectors, trigonometry, and probability. It was for me as well. At precisely 10:30, I left school, feeling like a dead person (yeah I had no other adjective to make up for how I felt). Then at 11:30 I was resurrected with coffee from Tim Hortons and fries from Costco. I was living the life. Then at 12:20 my life turned for the worse and I slowly saw my life fall apart before me, no warning, no “Scarlet shut the fuck up” moment but just fell apart. Then at 1:37 I sat on my king sized bed, watching Beth make out with Jughead, only to find myself crying for no fuckin reason. Here’s the thing, I was the one that made things worse. No, this is not boy trouble, but it is trouble, and trouble I guess I have problems coping with. This is how I cope with my problems, I lie. I pretend that everything is okay, but then my rotten heart has a way of letting others know my true colours. I have a way of not knowing when things go too far, without clarity, and I know that I get emotionally attached too soon, and too easily before the truth reveals itself. I feel that my heart deceives my better perceptions, only to find that I must feel pain before I learn. It is a lesson I must learn multiple times before I pass the course. So as I lie here typing this, I ask myself “what next?” I don’t know, but then again, do I really know anything?