It's just one of those days where I feel i could be prettier, better. And it's just one of those days that I'm at war with calories, and every girl in the magazines represents someone who I want to be. Anyone but who I am.

Sometimes I just wish someone would take the time to go past my sarcasm, my loud mouth, my smiling face, my grades, and my remarks to see a part of me that few have ever seen before.

every girl just needs her chance to cry in public. just to show that she's no where near perfect.

she tells people advice, makes them happy, just because she can't help herself.

She's 15 and her lips are still unkissed, her hands are still unheld, and no guy has ever told her he loved her, and meant it. She's beautiful, but she's losing confidence, cause no guy has ever taken the time to tell her.

No one can tell. It's kind of funny; it's really rather sad. You can walk around like normal, but feel like you're dying, or like you're already dead. You can fake a smile and a laugh, and when your voice cracks, well, it's only in your head. You're the only one that hears it. People can be so naive. It still shocks me how no one notices.

Your heroes turn out to be assholes, and the light in the tunnel that you're chasing is a train. The singer's in key, and the guitars in tune, but the sond is still slipping away.

She's different from the rest of the girls. She's not a fake person. She can always suggest good music. She'll over analyze everything you say. And honestly?" she couldn't care less about what most people think. She's beginning to learn that she can do just fine on her own.

there's endless quotes about pretending to be happy. Sometimes, that's all you can do. no one wants to be around someone who's sad. Your friends don't want to hear you sigh every time he walks by you. So this is for every broken hearted girl that is out there: don't let him know he got the best of you.

She's so sick of never being beautiful enough, never being stronger, or better, she's sick of going home every day, wishing she was someone else. For once she wants to look in the mirrow and be happy for what she sees back, she's so sick of every one telling her "You can do better," What if she can't? and people talking behind her back, yeah well, she found out, she's sick of people bringing her down, and telling her she isn't good enough. but I guess all she really wants, is to be more than second best.

So why should I even bother? Why do my makeup? why put up my hair? it's not like tomorrow someone will suddenly care.

I don't let my guard down, i built those walls up high, and they're not coming down anytime soon. don't worry, you won't be crashing through them. you think you're special, you think that I'll let you in. . . well, you're wrong. Because no one is coming through, and I'm certainly not coming out, I guess you could say I'm taking a break from feelings for a little while.

Everyone has a 'gripping stranger' in their lives. A stranger who unwittingly posses a bizarre hold over you, a stranger who, if you were to comehome and find a message from them on your answering machine saying "Drop everything. I love you. come away with me now" you'd follow them.

Reading is sometimes an ingenius device for avoiding thought.

It's so cute, the way she acts like nothing is bothering her, when really everything is.