I finally brought my snails home. My friend terry bought me snails moss ball and aquarium for them all. All very sweet of her. She got them for me for my birthday. In which I spent with bill terry and a long lost friend paul. My sister joined later. Everyone else was busy or something. If it wasn’t for terry I wouldn’t have done really anything for my birthday. That woman is a saint. Well her and Rick they both are saints. No one else really did anything. Plus I worked it ayways. I was a little bummed that Dane and Lucas two of my best friends had forgot, everyone else basically face booked happy bithday. But I did receive a very special bday song from my best friend. I still have it saved. My mom have me a card and money which I preceeded to use for food that weekend. My weekend with bill was okay. I just wish we could have stayed out later or done more. I miss seeing family. But unfortunately had to cut it short each night. I understand tho, and it was for the best we did. We both passed pur motorcycle class and officially have our license. But I can’t help but feel fake excitement. The excitement I’m supposed to show. When really I just feel like things are just happening around me and I myself can’t really feel it. It leads to many lonely tear filled nights. While the empty ness inside takes over, until just a hallow shell of uselessness is left to rot. The void repeats day in and day out. Filling with wants and needs, the little petty things. The need to feel loved in which I feel I dont. The want to be pretty, the want to be special. The need to feel special to someone, to know ur their everthing. But then realizing that’s not logical. That can’t happen that won’t happen and the fact I should stop wanting any of this I hoped would help. It doesn’t the just trying to live in the moment doesn’t work for me. I like the observation side one that’s able to tell the story time and time again. In which always bring me back to wanting and needing because it’s something I long for. I wish I could feel and experience as I once did, something over the years numbed me down to not caring to do anything. I sit in my room doing nothing. I can’t bring myself to do anything. Not even use my fountain pen simply because I don’t want to find my ink. No motovation. I don’t hang out at bills I don’t go to the bar or even just chill with the girls. Worst of all can’t even go to the Baumans, I practically live there, and yet being out and about makes me uneasy. I just want to lay in my bed all day cuz then I don’t have to feel. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. I get to sleep thru parts of the numbness. Till one day I’ll either hopefully feel better or maybe some freak accident and die… which ever. To end on a happy note here’s my snails.