It's the eighth of August

Somehow, I always manage to pull myself through.
Sometimes, like now, I lose some, I get one step behind and the whole world looks dark and I wish with all  my heart that I could be like T.B. His all around, carefree attitude  is so admirable. I think it's amazing that someone can be like him. But I also like the type that is moody and stable.
My God! I fear him so. P (my brother) would love to uncover everything. But I don't know why. I never really did anything to make him hate me. But I don't think that's it.
I don't think he hates me.
I don't know.

I feel like I want to cry.
All the time now.
I don't like it.
Everyone just dismisses me as thought I'm not important enough to actually take time to listen. Just a mute little twit teenager going bout her own life alone.
I realize now, none of them know what's going on and none of them ask.
And if you do ask, you do just that . You ask but do you really care? Or are you just asking?

There's no escape for me.
I just realized it last night.
It's the eighth of August. I don't want to start school. I don't want summer to end and I want Trevor.
I'm sick of my family, the dances are no good for me anymore and I'm losing weight. Have you ever heard of a more up and down life?
I wrote a letter to my cousin July 20th and I still haven't mailed it.
I AM STUCK.