Saturday, April 05, 2003 : Mandys Life Part Seven (1998)

I should be sorry for a lot of what I've done, but remorse seem a little scarce lately. It's not just me either. It's seems that everyone isn't sorry for anything now. I know people who aren't sorry for ruining me. I used to be a good girl. Now I'm just a pierced soul, with no where to go, because the people who should want me most, hate me, and the people who never wanted me still don't. You think you're over something, and then it always comes back and kicks you in the face. That's always the way. I hate it when you are just minding your own business, and you get caught up in an emotional swell, and you don't know where it came from, but you know it sucks and you want it to go away. It never does, cause there's always someone there that says "Oh what's wrong" and then you have to tell them something, cause you can't say "I don't know". And then it all gets worse, and you're stuck in this mud hole of crap that you have to put up with or you're a bitch. I hate that you can't just tell people what you think, and be respected for it. You're a bitch. Yeah, well, so then I'm a bitch. And fuck you all.

Well, I've got my answer, I'm not all that memorable. Someone I met last year doesn't remember me. Oh well. I want to make people remember me. I want them to see me in the street and say, Hey! I know her. I want people to wish they were like me. Not just the little kids I take care of, but everyone. I want the wars to stop, hunger to end, angry to blow away. I want too much. I want more than I can handle. But I still want it. I want everyone who hurt me to suffer for it in a way unimaginable to the human mind. I want them to feel it too. That's the cruelest form of punishment I can think of. For them to feel what I felt. To know what I know. It hurts. But it's not real pain. Nothing can compare to it, but it's not real