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First off.. I wanted to do this for a very long time. But I never really got to it.
Second this will be really chaotic. Thanks to my adhd..
This is for myself. But you may read it if you want.

Where to start.. I really don't know. Maybe by the fact that I don't use violence. Not physical at least. Ok ok I punch and kick people some time's. And I will get back at the girl that kicked me off my chair and pushed me off her desk (I was teasing her to that point) but still. I'll do it physiologically.
I some time's think I'm better then others.. But then I realize I really aren't. I'm more childish.. While being more mature. It's hard to explain. I look at a bird and think 'where will it go' WHILE thinking 'There must be hot air under his wings'. Do you get it? I can have up to like 10 thoughts at one time. Both childish, immature, hatefull.. And mature, good, fun.. Mostly it's annoying thoughts. Annoyed by life, annoyed by people, annoyed by myself mostly. I walk around and I notice that no one really knows me. NO ONE. Even not my best friend. No one sees just how much frustration, anger, sadness, happyness and every other emotion I actually bottle up. They know I bottle things up. But they don't know about the amount of it. They don't know about the suicidal thoughts. The cutting I've done, the attempts I've tried. And why did I try? Why those feelings? Mostly confusion I guess.. I don't know. I think it is because there's no one I can really talk to. I put up this mask. And it's my own fault. I do that. Not them.

I really want to do a lot. I want to live like a bum (for a week! not for always!), I want to live like a millionaire (once again for just a week. Not for always). I want to know what it's like to be deaf, to have no sense of pain, to master a lot of instruments, to know more, to learn in school instead of just automatically do what they want me to and not even having to think about the stuff they give me. Maybe I should just quit everything. To life on my own. But I'm pretty sure I'll end up doing drugs and all then to numb the pain and loneliness.

When I read this the only thing I can think is 'god I'm such a teen', while I always say I'm not a real teen. I am. But I'm conscious about it. I am conscious of what I do.. Or did. I do think. But I handle things more maturely then most of the teens do. Or is that mature? To just handle things in a different way then teens do? Then kids do? If that's all, I'm ready to step onto the train of death. To go down that road. Because that's life. Life is a highway with it's stops.. With it's tank stations. With turns. Life is a road to death. That's all. And what's death? I have no idea.. I know some people come back as 'spirits' or 'ghosts'. I see, hear and sense them after all. But what about the majority? What about the one's that don't come back? Will they go to some place? Or just not exist anymore. I have no religion.. Nothing. I don't even know for sure if I'm an atheist because I believe in ghosts..

Ok ok back to the maturity. If that's what it means to be mature.. A LOT of people aren't. I mean adults are often more childish then teens or young adults. They look at the world trough the eyes of a child (if they aren't workaholics or like my dad). Hmm. I do that too.. Just like with the birds.. I have many other things I look at and wonder about in a childish manner while I already know the answer. Where does the water from the sink come from? Where does it go? And while I think that the answer is already there.. It's no fun anymore. Being a child is better then a teen or an adult. You can still wonder about things. Still make up where it comes from. And no I never ever thought 'owh god did that' or 'owh a higher power did that'. I tried to be logical when I was little. When they told me sinterklaas (sort of santa claus.. actually santa claus is a version of Sinterklaas.. Google it.) didn't exist.. I was just like: well duh! I mean c'mon.. Every year the guy has this fake beard and I see where the make-up of those zwarten pieten (google it) didn't cover every inch of their face.

Owh a nice little thing.. When I was three I was watching animal planet with my mom.. And a zebra was eaten by a lion. My mom was like: owh god how am I going to explain this? (I later knew she thought that because she told me) and you know what my reaction to that death of that zebra was? 'Well that zebra shouldn't have been born a zebra. You get eaten then, that's just his loss.'. I WAS THREE! THREE! Normal kids of that age stare in wonder or cry or stuff like that. Now that I think about it.. I never really was a kid. I never got the attention I needed. Yes I played with kids, I played their games and yes I enjoyed it.. But that doesn't mean I was a real kid. It means I enjoyed the attention. The company. That's all.

I might need to get a second job.. No I do need a second job. First I wanted it for myself.. But now I might need to help support my mom. Just until we move out and s**t. Now I have even more s**t going on while I'm in my final year. Just great.. Also they're testing my blood on mono and all. Great..

- 16 February 2011
It's almost full moon right now. There's just a tiny bit that needs to be filled. There are people who actually think that they're werewolves.. I mean I believe in people having such a spirit.. Or at least part of it.. But not being actual werewolves. The same works with vampires, angels, demons etc etc. I mean just because you need someone other's life source doesn't mean you're a vampire.. Yes you call it a vampire. But still. I mean I like blood as well. And I believe there are people who need other people's energy to not get ill and s**t.. (just look it up on google.. Type in 'Real vampires'.) But that doesn't mean you ARE a vampire. All of those MYTHOLOGICAL and FANTASY creatures aren't real. Otherwise it wouldn't be a myth or a fantasy story. It would be real. And it isn't.

Headache.. Play guitar.. Damned headache.. Sleep.. Play guitar.. This doesn't make sense to you but it does to me at the moment. Why do I suddenly think of Einstein? Crazy a** b*****d.. Deodorant. Sex. Rape. Music stores from Den Bosch.. Gotta get more and nicer picks.. Lose them all the time. Cornélie Vergouwe. Damned girl. Made me actually do this just by me reading her story. You know how it ends? She just leaves. By train. That's it. I want to know where she is now. Most likely at the circus.. Riding horses.. Performing with them. Performing on a skateboard.. With that son of the boss of that circus. Ugh.. -16 February 2011