I know what you are thinking. It's all the same. And nothing has changed. I'm sure you won't know like I know. Because I always remember all of it. Every detail.

The point is I'm speaking in riddles because I don't want to talk normal. Because it would take away from the mood. The way I feel right now. This sigh. This sentimenality that is being inspired by a song. By music. I'm not going to mention the song. It would make it real, tangible. And I want to keep it as dream-like as possible.

So let's begin dreaming.

All I can think about it how all of this will end soon. I'm lying in bed with my head underneath a pillow and all I can think about is how this moment won't last. Like all those other past moments I remembered this thought. Soon tonight will be over and this is my last night to live it and all I'm doing is lying underneath my pillow and not taking advantage of tonight. This is the moment. This is now. This is the present. This is how I feel. And how I feel is nostalgic. I can't help but think that I'm missing something. But when I really think about it, I'm just concerned with what I'm going to be missing. Especially next year. And all these thoughts, make me think about my dreams. And how they turn into nightmares. And how I always die in them. And how I'm always murdered. And it's like the camera that was rolling when I died dropped to the ground with me and all the audience could see was the blood splattered on the lens and the twitching of my foot. And now, I'm just scared in the darkness of my room. Because anything can get me in a state like this. Because I'm so vulnerable with emotion. And I hope I just don't die tonight. Because I still need to interpret these dreams. And the song is on repeat. So I'm brought back to just being nostalgic instead of afraid. Or maybe a mixture of both because now all I can think about it next year. And how this is probably the number one reason I am having these nightmares. So now, I'm definetly afraid. But not the nightmare kind, the nostalgic kind. The kind that you can't shake because it goes deeper than nightmares. It goes to the very core of where fear orginates. And it is in my heart. And I have a hard time swallowing because all I want is for the song to repeat again, so I can control myself. And gain composure. So, I've gained it. And now. Now. I'm just rambling, but I'm proud of myself because it's still making sense even when I read over it. And I just think I'm getting better at writing, even though I practically ignored this diary for an entire school year. And maybe I'm not getting better but I'm just learning to appreciate myself. Not the fake kind where I pretend to love myself publicly so that people love me for being so damn confident. The other kind where I really am proud to be myself because I know exactly who I am and I wouldn't change a thing. Wait. A few things. But I still love myself regardless. Now I am really rambling. And I'm starting to get dissapointed with myself because now, because the past few sentences aren't making any sense. And now I'm brought back down. And I'm not bi-polar, I promise. I just have a lot on mind. A lot. And I just need to sort it by startinge very fucking sentence with and. And. And. And...

And I just need some sleep. Some dreams. And.

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