The purpose of this blog originally was so that the ones that I loved and cared about would get to know me better. Get a better look inside my head. I've renamed this blog so many times it's not even funny. I left this current title on cause everyone thinks my blog is boring. Interesting at some points, but needs more content. Too much reading. All you do is rant.

I really don't think anyone cares anymore about my blog. I'm just writing it seems for my own health. The ones I've shared this blog to don't come. Hell, I'm not even sure anyone still reads this. Everyone is either too busy or doesn't have the patiants. Some would argue that no one knows me well enough to read it. You don't have to know me to read this. I'm more open here than I am about things in real life. My opinions here are uninterrupted and spelled out as fast as I can think them and as sincere as how I'm feeling. Yeah, I know that would get me far to begin with. You only say that and then look stupid later. At least I do. But I want to be heard for once. I want to be seen as this good kid that just doesn't have a clue. I don't have a clue. Ask anyone I've pissed off! I don't know what I'm doing! I want to know, but I just don't!

I was told that I have an evil inside me. It was the result of my depression. Sometimes I wish that I had some kind of mark or change that would happen on or around me whenever something got me upset or down. A Scarlet Witch kind of thing. Well, not really, but you know what I mean. Something that would even tell the blind, the deaf, and the dumb that I'm upset or depressed or happy or mad or consern or thankful or confused. At the very least a mark that would get bigger or shrink like in Princess Mononoke... without the arm that would pulsate and then have a will of it's own. Some kind of indicator that would let me know if it got worst or if it got better. Just something to let stupid me know what the hell is wrong with me!

They say that talking to yourself is a sign of social struggles. Mostly with those that talk to much or those that don't talk enough. I don't talk much. I just type. If I talk to long, my vocal cords will knot up. Normally happens after about 5 minutes of streight talking. A sign that I don't talk much, or for that matter as loud. When I do talk, it's to myself. They say that's a sign of being a scitzophrenic or however it's spelled. Multiple personas. I don't know if there is another Zeek inside me or not, but most of my rants to myself are just scenarios that I wish happened or hope to happen. Sometimes I like to think that my gaurdian angel is listening and I talk to him. I ask him for comfort mostly. Comfort from the fact that I am alone. I have no one to relate to. Comfort from that. Call him an invisible friend or just call him fake. I don't care. I know he's there. I know he's listening. I know he's crying with me and happy when he sees me talking to another person instead of him or myself. Actual talking; not this IMing and over the phone thing. I also know he is the cause of all the goosebumps I get in just a few places. That's him hugging me. That tingling feeling on my cheek every night? It's not some bug or the air condisioner kicking in. That's him kissing me good night since no one has since I've been starting to grow apart from my parents.

Maybe I'm not alone. Maybe I'm just looking for company. Someone how is as loyal as I am. As sensative as I am. Dare I say as stupid as I am. Someone that could break me out of this shell of insecurity I'm in so I can proudly say this is who I am and this is what I like and if you don't like it you can got to hell for all I care.

And there I go again, asking the impossible.