I'm embarrassed, all the time. And I don't know why.

I just didn't want to rely on people in order for me to go the library or to a friend's house,
I wanted to make my summer and school life lovely on my own. I didn't want to bother my dad, mom, sister, or friends.

I guess I can do that after the summer ends. That's not that far away at all. I'll be fine. It's not that big of a deal, I just, get scared about it. I don't want to bother anyone anymore even though I do anyway.  


How I acted was awful and not fair. I understand that, and I'm sorry.

Mom doesn't like me very much sometimes, I understand that too.

I get angry too fast.

I'm impatient.

I'm too "touchy" with people I like.

I'm awkward.

I'm hard to deal with and distant.

I understand that she's trying, that she's wonderful and kind and that I shouldn't be to hard on her.

I understand, most of the time, I do try really hard to understand.

I was a brat. (I hate that word; I've heard it too many times.)


just... I'm angry. a lot too. I'm sorry about that also.

Disappointed I know you are.

I am going to disappoint many people, and I am going to feel ashamed for a very long time because of it. 

I don't know what to do. 

I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. 


But I am not certain. 

I'm beginning to hate my age, but it's the only one I have.

I feel like a river; I just want to go away from everything, but I'm stuck while also moving.

I want to be old and alone with my friends, but when I'm nineteen or some other older age, I'll probably think differently. Maybe I'll even have different friends.

I don't like my church, I don't like listening anymore.

All it does is make me angry and sad.

I want to go back to that summer where we all painted in the hallway.

Bringing a book to the services helps, I guess.

I'm stuck in this, pulling back and forth feeling. I love and hate everything.

I'm feel as if I'm disappointing everyone, but I feel like I don't care.

I don't know what to do.