My Enemy

Okay, so... I'm starting this blog. It's posted nowhere... maybe I'll put it on one of my profiles or something. I don't know why I'm doing this. I don't think I care if anyone ever reads it though. It's just a place where I can sit down and write out my thoughts. Writing in a notebook doesn't seem to do anything for me anymore. It seems so limited. Like, I'm talking to someone who doesn't exist. Now I'm talking to a computer.... hm, yeah, that doesn't really make me feel much better. Maybe someday someone will be bored out of their mind and read this. Maybe not.
Today, I'm so bored. I have a bunch of crap I need to get done.... but I just don't feel motivated. My best friend is supposed to come over later and help me dye my hair... wahoo. Okay, yeah, I'm not all that excited about it. I feel so dull and ugly. I can't wait to go to Pensacola.... even if it is going to be w/ my parents. I mean, its going to be fun. At least I won't have to work for 5 days, and I get to see my sis. That will be cool. ~sigh~
I feel like I'm constantly striving for perfection of some sort. There has to be something mentally disturbing about setting unattainable goals.... or maybe they are only unattainable b/c I make them that way. I just need to lose 20 pounds, find a more respectable job, and oh yeah... get my ex whom I've-never-met-in-person-yet-always-argue-w/ back.
Alright, here's some stupid ass random poet I'm writing... that hardly rhymes, has no rhythm, and pretty much sucks... I know I know... I'm great at intro's haha... I should go on a tour w/ someone.

My enemy

When I look in the mirror, I hate who I see.
When I don't look in the mirror, I forget who I be.
It's like in this horrid battle I hide,
And I'm the only person on my side.
With every move I make... I remember my enemy's better counter action with which I've dealt.
I'm alone... this deep emotion is emptier than I have ever felt.
Every aspect of my life is a struggle.
I feel like I fell into a deep pool because of a shuffle.
I've forgotten how to swim,
So I fight to win.
I tred the water and see the light,
Putting up a good survival fight.
Going nowhere, but my destiny.
My life exists soley for others... my enemy.
I feel incredibly empty.
I want to be more empty.
Any good thoughts or feelings are chased away.
Why do I whine about being alone all day,
But then bitch to have my solitude?
Why do I eat when emptiness is crushed by food?
Why do I live if only for the sustenance of my enemy?
Reality... Reality will always be my enemy.