4th of july was fun. i'll have more 4th stories and pics up heer soonn.

uh i swam like 5 miles w/ lilly today. warm water doesn't help 2 day-long migraines. and people keep telling me i need to stay sober, so that option's out. fuckkk.

i just feel like shit in general. about everything. whatever's going on, what i have to do, what i did, what i know is coming. and then there's the present.
right now, my head hurts and i need to be un-sober (in one way or another) worse than i ever have. can i just say: sober sucks.
im disappointed in me for reasons both known and unknown. my friends don't bother calling anymore, the only important ones are either partying with their 'new' friends, or are very, very, very, very far away. can i just say: i miss them more than ever.
i guess i just need someone to talk to. dr.bottum is out; i'm bored of therapists. all my friends aren't here, and there's no real point in writing anymore. writing is reserved for feelings more prominent to people than my self-loathing. writing is reserved for red notebooks that have the uncanny ability to hold everything and also help pour everything out. can i just say: writing sucks right now.
drawing is good; but everything that comes from my fingers and pens becomes something ugly that reflects my insides. no one needs to see that. ever.
worse yet, i am not Carsen anymore. Carsen is that slightly manic-all-the-time crazy one who is kind to everyone and always has a compliment hidden up her sleeve. i am like a withered up old shell of what i was. sometimes i can be that Carsen; but i have to try really hard. most of the time i can't even try to be manic. or happy. or anything other than angry at myself and incredibly sad. sometimes i want to do ethical things, like aspire to have a family and a job with a good, steady income. and a nice house, and an okay car, and excitement, and joy. but times like now, the majority of the times, i just don't want to be here. it's not that i want to have never been born, because i guess i have helped people. er, the OLD Carsen has helped people. now i just want to die. it enters my mind fresh again every day as i wake up with my sad dreams echoing in my head. it nervously hangs around as i do something reckless, or something that the old Carsen would have known could so easily make my dying a possibility. i just want it so badly. i scare myself a lot, thinking about how much i really think about it during the day. i just get so incredibly frustrated; i'm not me but at the same time i always have been. i just don't know what to do. no, i can think of some things to do. but all that would come of them is future deathday parties and a lot of crying. can i just say: life sucks.