Maybe I can't take it anymore.

How much do I suck at being a genuine human being?
Maybe enough to lock myself in my house and stop trying, stop trying to be someone. Instead of being famous, today I wanted to be invisible. What about beautiful, talented and invisible? That would be nice. I could be happy with myself, I could see everyone else happy without me, and everything would be dandy. I think everyone hates me. I can't do anything right. I have nothing. I'll become nothing at this rate, no matter how hard I try.
Why not stop trying. Just stop. Everything.

Chopping bamboo forests down is good for my anger and frustration and despair. I can chop with the loppers and snap and break and stomp on all the bamboo that I hate seeing in my yard. All the while, getting cuts and bruises and bleeding and itching and getting sunburn. Pain felt good today. Bleeding felt and looked good. Like, look, someone pity me. And no one does, so... I don't know why I like being sad. Do I like being in pain? Being a nobody and feeling useless, worthless. No matter how happy I think I get, it's taken away in a second and I don't think I've ever once felt true happiness. I am waiting for the day I can find true happiness and satisfaction with myself, in this life.

Right now, Epik High is singing and rapping the deepest emotions of my life. I should by Tablo-sshi's book. I wanted to go to Utada Hikaru's CD signing in San Francisco on Thursday, but, of all times, we are going on a big road trip across the USA on Tuesday. Just like the two concert locations that I could actually attend David Archuleta's concert, I will be in LA, this summer. I'm cursed.

Yeah, I'm cursed. That's what it is. Maybe my ancestors are at the bottom of this. My negative self esteem. Gah, I don't think I'll become a cutter, but it's not like I'm trying to prevent these cuts and bruises from chopping bamboo and exercising too much...

I'm cursed in several ways. One is too embarrassing to mention. 2nd, when I drive, no one is behind me. If they are, they are tailgating me. For some reason, people don't drive behind me. I bet it's a bad thing. 3rd, when I am around, my dad messes up on whatever he is doing. I swear, this is true. I show up to help, and he measures a piece of wood wrong on the shed, or forgets something somewhere.

I wish I could express emotions into amazing songs like Epik High.

To Colorado, on a road trip.. for some reason. Maybe I can find myself. I thought I knew who I was, but I don't like her. I've been trying to hard to change her, but it's not working. I wonder why God made me like this, or is it my fault? I wish I could go back to my childhood and live in blissful ignorance of everything. It's selfish, but I'm too afraid, I can't help it. I am afraid, I am not ready to grow up, I don't know what to do, I am a nobody.