D22.page

Diary entry for Feb. 20th (this is the same as yesterdays i'm leaving it on because it's awesome and I want everyone to see it. So i'm leaving it.)
read all the way through before freakin out or anything.
(19th) I've decided to kill myself tonight. Keep in mind this is being written on the night of the 18th anyway. I've decided to kill myself, not because I think people hate me, not because of jen, or linnea, or dave, not because of any of my friends, aquaintences, or enemies. Not because of Bair Lake Bible Camp, not becasue of a radiohead song, or the crucify single by tori amos, not because of a pearl jam song, or progeria, or your friend jessica, or The slim Shady LP, or the Marshall Matthers LP, or Antichrist Superstar, and Portrait of an American Family, not because of Smells like Children, Smells like teen Spirit, or American History X, or American Beauty, or Where the Day takes you, or The Deerhunter, or The beatles White Album, not because of Imagine by John Lennon. Not because I've sparkled, and faded (everclear), Not because of the white men in the black suits (everclear) Not because I'm a cornflake girl (tori amos) Not because I'm the cyclops woman (marilyn manson) not because of Snake Eyes and Sissies (marilyn manson), the cryptochild (marilyn manson), ob la di ob la da, better man, heart of glass, you, god, I'm not killing myself for any of these reasons, though they are all things that depress me greatly. But my friend I am killin myself, because of load up on guns, bring your friends, it's fun to lose, and to pretend. She's a DIRTY WORD. SHE"S a DirTy Word. she's the word of God, i'm worst at what IIIIIIIIIIIII do best. I am worst at what i do best. A denial a denial. i will not die today.
BECAUSE I AM CHRIS SWINSON AND NOTHING SEEMS TO KILL ME, NO AMOUNT OF WISHING PRAYING POETRY TEARS WORX>
have you ever hurt so bad in your mind that your body just ached? hurt so much that your head pounded and you were lost? you didn't know what was goin on because everything and nothing were happening at the same time?
Do you ever feel the sadness start in your chest as it arrives in your mind it is nothing but an overwhelming sense of melancholy? Then it works it's way the the front of your head and you feel the tears but they never come? They never come. The piano keys strike a shot right through your ear as they crie. Everything else cries because you can't? The statue of the mother mary in the corner weeps silently? The bottles of prozac, and zoloft, and anafranil cry with a feirce vengance? your fingernails weep just for melodramatic effect? and the tips of your toes turn cold as the numbness worx to them? You feel god's presence and he cries for you? the cd cries. Tori cries? and angie's all alone? is she a song, a goddess, a woman, and life, or a botched abortion? is that what i am? am i a botched abortion? Never meant to live? only left allive for fear of a vengeful god? a mistake maybe? a broken condom? i am stupid and contagious? Am i stupid and contagious? when everything's a question, and nothing is the answer?

My poetry and writings suck. Like i'm being serious now guys. this isn't like part of this poem, i seriously just realized how cliche` filled all of my poems are. Like people tell me i have writing ability. emily, josh, becky, even chad all of ya have said it. Event strangers come up to me at camp after i share and say it's good. NO IT"S NOT. 90% of teenagers with an IQ above 15 write poetry. Do you know how many girls i know that write, and keep journals. Almost all of them. I can't write. I write just like everyone else. All i write about is melodramatic crap. Look at the poem you just read. Go ahead look. "when you can't cry and everything cries for you." WHAT THE HECK WAS I THINKIN? how mmuch more cheesy could my poems be? I've heard some really cheesy song lyrics in my day, but none compared to my poems. I am just like every other kid in america. "oh, love, and hate, tears, and joy, blah blah blah blah. Why don't i write more often about ORIGINAL things, visceral and raw things? There are none left, that why, nothings visceral, original or raw in this world.