Yep, I hate the whole world.

It's been about four days since my last journal. 96 hours is a long time, or at least it can seem that way, and usually in that span I can get over the bad things that have been going through my head.

Guess what? They're still there. I'm still all alone and I deffinately am still depressed because of it. I'll tell you why. For four days I have spoken to no one, except for the Great and Mighty Marcifus because she is my Skister and she needed my help. Now, I know that's a little hard to believe, that I could not speak to anyone, but believe me I can. Now sometimes when I get depressed and withdraw like this somebody will notice, but not this time. Not any of my Myspace friends, not any one on any of the various Messengers I use, hell, not even any one on here. No one noticed, no one cared. I didn't talk to any one and no one gave a damn.

I suppose I should have expected it, but when people have said they care, maybe I believe them. I like to think that if something were to go wrong with me there would be someone to notice and at least ask me what was going on. But then again why should anyone give a damn about me. They all have other people in their lives that are more important than me. I mean, I'm just me, another stupid human. I'm not important. This world got along perfectly fine before me and it'll be fine long after I'm dead. Hell, everyone I know got along perfectly well before I came into their lives and now when I'm not there they don't seem to care.

I've said it before: I love to much. I give so much of myself with the hope that someone, anyone really, will see and maybe give something back, but I suppose this is the wrong time for such actions. People these days are selfish. I know too may people who only think of what they want without appreciation or thought of others, like the time I called my friend on his birthday and he was more concerned about if there were any presents for him. Or like all of my aunts and uncles who apparently forgot that it was my birthday over a month ago. Or everyone who I didn't talk to over the last four days who I would normally talk to every day. I guess then, why should I be so giving of myself? Why should I not be selfish and disregard everyone else?

That's not me, that's why. I'm cursed to care about other people without them ever noticing or caring. I should just stop, but I know I can't. As painful as it may be for me to care and love, I still have to do it, despite the fact that my friends don't care and that, despite the care and love, I'm still alone and likely always will be. It's either that or I stop caring at all and go back to being the girl with a heart of ice like I used to be and lose hope of having any sort of relationships ever again. Either way I risk and am nearly garunteed pain.

I'm nearly to the point that I don't care anymore whether or not people notice me or care that I may be struggling though life. But it doesn't mean that it doesn't still rip me apart. Maybe another day will change things, but I doubt it. That's my life I suppose. It doesn't mean I have to like it.

--Desperate I will crawl, waiting for so long. No love, there is no love. Die for anyone, what have I become?