Sometimes it feels like nothing will help me. There's no one I feel like talking to, and no where I want to be.

Lately it's been like everything is cold. Like, when you go to bed and the sheets are cold and stiff, but they eventually get warm and soft. But they're still cold for me. They have been cold for too long, and I still can't sleep.

So it's 11:30pm and I'm writing about it?

I have forgotten that this is a public thing, because writing in it is so easy. But I still have never re-read a blog of mine, because if I do I know I'll erase everything or water it down to the point where it means nothing.

Anyway, my parents came home from where ever they were for the past four days today. We had dinner at Still Four Corners, where I work, or used to work. It closed for the winter season today. I don't know why I'm writing about this. It's boring.

I want to sleep but I can't. Sleep is hard for me. It's difficult to fall asleep, and once I do there is never enough of it. When I go to bed I sit there and think about nothing for a while, until I finally get the strength to look at the clock and see it's almost 4am. This makes it harder to sleep because I haven't slept at all and I need to endure school for 6 hours.

School isn't so bad though. The people are generally nice. Last week was good I think.

Actually I think I'm like in some sort of withdrawal period.

Still cold. But I am not tired, and I know I won't be for a while just because it's one of those nights.

Friday night I went to a friends birthday party thing. It was more of just a party. As we passed around the bowl, smoking, she said that I was broken. That all of us there are broken people, who look for ways of getting better in places like that.

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These are starting to define me and it isn't fun anymore.

But without these things I am like this all day. So much void.

There's too many things around me. I need to get rid of them. I want to be in a big room... with wood floors, creamy walls, white trim, high ceiling, large high windows letting in sunlight. And in a the middle a big warm bed for me to rest.

I think I'm done for now. If you have read all of this, I wonder what you are thinking. Do my thoughts reflect those of a cliche teenager, or am I just a sad lonely broken person who is beyond repair. Or is this just really annoying to you, my complaining. Don't answer that question. I never want to hear the answer to that.