Writing

It is now 4:51am and I've given up on trying to sleep.
Writing has always been the only outlet I've ever known for expressing what I feel; doing it sometimes in a funny way, like I do on my other blog, is a mild outlet, which sometimes makes my anxiety calm down. Tonight I have nothing witty or humorous to write about, so I turn to the slightly darker side of writing and it brings me here.
What worries me tonight is a mixture of many things, fear, slight signs of depression and just plain not knowing what else to do with myself at the moment. To the people that know me a bit better, it is not an unknown fact that depression was a part of my life for a short period of time and the fear of falling into that same state is always in the back of my mind.
Lately, I've realized that I have become way too cynical to enjoy small things that used to bring some joy out of me. My sister and I, for example, used to be so close we'd automatically laugh at the same things and know what would make each other laugh and were also confident that whatever joke one would come up with, the other one would surely laugh at. Nowadays, my sister tells me and shows me things that would've been funny to me at some point in my life, but now, can get nothing out of me but pity laughs; on the other hand, I know that many of the things that make me laugh today are too much of a foreign concept for her to understand, so I don't even try.
I seem to have lost the ability to enjoy some simple things, and as stupid as it sounds, it scares me. Have I become so cynical, and so unimpressed by life that I may have lost the bond between the person who was once the only person who could truly understand me in the world and myself? Or perhaps we were always meant to grow apart? I think the latter scares me the most.
I see pictures and hear stories of how people back in my hometown have fun and I almost feel sad that this is what they consider fun, what they consider success, and what they consider worthy of somebody feeling jealous of; I seem to forget that everybody only knows what they know and that at a certain age, we sort of...settle.
My life seems to be going in a very good direction, but it feels like it's going nowhere at the same time. I feel like I've worked hard to reach goals in life, but it feels like I'm always one step behind; I know I can't be the only one feeling this way, yet I wonder what everybody else does to hide it so well. Perhaps everybody else, like me, feels like our worries should be nobody else's but our own and just bottle them in.
Has Jersey and its dry, angry, cynical environment finally gotten the best of me?
Has it finally made me so self-centered that I can be up at 5am and believe that somebody will be genuinely interested in reading this?
See, now that's funny.

How does one pretend not to be scared? How does one keep a cold head when everything falls apart slowly?
Dont freak out, dont freak out...but everybody else is freaking out.
How do I keep my balance when the only crutch I've ever known is far away?
How do you dream of being together when there isnt even the slightest hint of a possible time, a possible date?
I dont need and I dont want substitutes.
I want to feel like the sun rises and sets for a reason rather than just because time cursed it to do so for the rest of the eternity.
I am so much more. I can do so much more. But where do I start?
My thoughts sit on my chest at night and wont let me sleep.
Where is the sound I need to hear to awake a smile?

...beyond words.

I am angry beyond words at my father. He failed to realize that, even though there hasn't been a graduation ceremony, one of his children has graduated college. I am the first one out of his 3 children to graduated college and he's not even aware. I graduated with very good grades and great reviews from my teachers. I paid for college without financial aid, because thanks to his and my stepmother's income, paying for my tuition was very possible, but still, I paid for everything with very few exceptions. I worked two jobs to make the money for tuition and when I came for help because for the first time I couldn't come up with the money, he told me to not worry about it. When I reminded him about the money I needed, he had forgotten. He forgot. He forgot his daughter had to pay her college tuition. What the hell is on your to-do list that can make you forget the one thing your daughter has asked you to help her with in years? Better yet, claimed he forgot because I didn't remind him enough. I guess it is my fault.
I barely expect anything from my parents. I didn't want anything, I just wanted it to be acknowledged that I had succesfully completed something that I busted my ass for. I didn't even get that.
I guess what I really am is hurt beyond words.

..it comes and goes...

Sometimes, I look in the mirror and think that make-up was invented because of girls like me...

"Phrases I would use if I were a black guy"

-"I stay fresh like I'm in a ZipLoc"

-"Is your name short for DAYUMMM FIIIINE?!"

-"Brain so good coulda sworn you went to college."

Through pictures

Things always become very clear to me at very strange moments.
Like when you broke down in front of me, I should have known helping you was a job way too big for me to even attempt. But tonight, using the time when I should be sleeping to take a small glance at my older self, I realize you were never there. Or maybe I was never there, I was just something filling a void, and the sweet words out of your mouth were never meant for me at all. It is clear now that I was but an experiment. Surprisingly, I am not angry, for I was merely done to what I had done to many others before; it was only a matter of time.
I must admit, though, that there is a slight hint of pain when I see that people who were never as close to you as I was will always take much more of your attention than I ever did.
I don't blame you, I don't believe it was ever your intention for me to fall the way I did and I clumsily did...That's always be the tragedy, isn't it?

Oh, God...

You're so "My Type", it's making my chest ache.