Found this saved in my computer.

[Bath]

I forgot I had even written it:

7.7.11ish
i can't write. i can't write anything. i can't draw anything. i have so many indeas jumbled up inside my mind but i
can't get them out in any shape or form. i see through these eyes, i make perfect sense of everything around me,
out of my emotions and how the world works. but i can't express it. and i don't know why. i don't know why.

i want to write for hours on end. i want to smoke a fruity cigar at 7am near the canal outside. i want to draw a
picture of a ballerina using charcoal, i want to read artsy short stories on the internet, i want to listen
to filthy dubstep and soft acoustic. i don't know what i want to do. i want to do everything. i want to talk to
everybody, call myself every name, never sleep. never sleep. and when i do, i want to remember all my dreams.

i hate everything about myself. so, i'll just drown in caffeine, write, and collect art supplies. dig the blade into
my skin secretly, and forget everything rational. this is better for me, this is better.

7.8.11ish
wake up. drink coffee. shower. think of ideas.
summer.

[ShatteredGlass]

It's a nice entry and relatable although i hope you dont still fill this way about yourself

[Bath]

It's changed but it's still a part of me.