Sometimes I wonder about my motivation for the things I do or think. Which I suppose is a good thing. But I constantly wonder if I'm doing anything for the right reasons, and the answer is always that I don't know. I try to convince myself that I am and I'm right on things, but I'm never sure. It's self doubt that met guilt and had a threesome with scene and heart politics. It's a mess, as am I. I'm tired of blaming and guilt and being tired and making plans and wishes and all the things that weigh my head down. My insides are in a constant flurry that is at most times uncontrollable. I want to be so much more than I perceive myself to be.

I want to be nicer, more patient, a little less sexual, defy jealousy, avoid greed, keep my head on my shoulders and that head above water. I want to make a difference. And truly, if that means making just one kid feel not so alone about being in this world, then I'm okay. Because I AM okay. Or so I have to remind myself every single day. There's not a day that goes by I don't think of those kids. The lost and alone and hurt and confused. The ones that can't keep it together or maybe never had it to begin with. The ones trying to survive.

I believe, with my inside perspective from being in the hospitals and dealing with adolescent psyhciatry, I could write something really thought provoking, and maybe even help someone like me. That's all I've ever wanted: to provoke thought and curiosity in people. I want to open their eyes and make them stand up. For something. Anything. Just. Stand. Up. But I fear my own head and life is too muddled to ever evoke change or emotion.

I have big wishes and bigger ideas.