A Piece of History- April 1st 2011

...To Wiki, It's exactly 3 months after I wrote this.
The Last 5 Days Of My Life
I have made a choice. I won't lie and say it was a hard choice, it wasn't. How many years have I been living this? How many hours have I spent planning this? The plans changed, the reasoning changed, the environment changed, I changed. There is nothing I can do about that. I still have 14 years left but who would want to wait so long. I made a choice
I could not get away without mentioning this because I don't want wrong assumption and misunderstandings being made. I am aware that Kurt Cobain, the genius of modern music and icon of surrealistic thinking, died on the 5th of April in 1994. I know that he was 28 years old. I know that it wasn't suicide. My choice has got shit to do with this but I won't lie and say that it's just a coincidence because it isn't. I could do it today and nothing would change except that I wan't to leave something behind, even if it means being just another one of those emos from school I do not care, I'm desperate for recognition.
My life, I guess, was one of many great moments and love and emotion and experiences, I am aware that some people would give anything for a life like this but these people have never seen the labyrinths inside this one life, their darkest nightmares never seen them. Its not like I'm disrespecting the outside, it just means nothing to me. I'm hopeless. this is how I want to thank my mother for everything she gave me, all the love and care I was so spoiled. This is all I can do, the perfect mothers day present. I will free her from the pain she had to suffer for the past weeks, I wan't to make her happy for once. I feel like I never done that before.
I should probably mention my father although he is not of great importance, he helped me realise that I have to do this and that the choice has been made. I am sentenced to death, by his words, he showed me the way.
Sometimes people don't realise what they are. They are made to believe a lie. It tells them of the body and the mind. What a fascinating fairytale. There are many philosophies about what we are and why. I was looking for a  philosophy that would explain why words physically hurt me like daggers, why my chest is torn apart and my heart cut into little pieces every time I hear them speak. Why do they care to waste their precious time and electricity to move their mouth and care? Just let me die in terrible pain, in numbing torture, in piece.
What triggered my decision? Well I will tell you a story of 14 years in as little words as possible.

Getting Back On Track

I haven't written in ages, maybe it's because I haven't had time, or I had to much time and spent it on other shit. Well I guess it doesn't matter now the point is that I have been gone a long long while and to be honest I have no idea what I did all this time, I didn't make notes at all or anything I just have my journal full of meaning less dates and empty names. I was busy. Very busy, and now, as the summer holidays start I should stop for a bit and rethink my self. It was my birthday on the 29th of June. Happy Memories. I hate my birthdays and everybody knows so they make growing old a little bit less painful by letting me eat Ice Cream for breakfast and burring me in presents :) I can't really complain. But when I'm alone it starts. I had a meeting with a conciliar and my mother on Monday where we spoke about my problems and how 'I can be dangerous' sometimes. I think it's stupid. I'm mad. It has to be. Well I'm just glad that my mum knows everything that she needs to now. Oh, who am I kidding? She doesn't know everything, she can never know about her. See what a hypocrite I am, I take the piss out of 13 year olds going around saying 'Yeah I'm lesbian' or 'Yeah I'm bi', but when it comes to the truth, I turn my head and punch a couple of walls. I have something to share with you Wiki. I would like you to read this if you lost the note book...