Listening, growth

So I am going through a time of great turbulence. My mind is kind of always turbulent and controls me much of the time. I've got all this shit in my history (as billions of others do...some much more) and people are REALLY talking to me about all this shit. Mainly listening, but its kind of the same thing a lot of times... you know... just hearing yourself say it is all you need for it to become conscious. And I don't know how much left there is to say...
I've gotta transcend these thought patterns I've developed over years and years... Every time I start I cry pretty violently. I probably stop because no one like these crying spells. So I stay by myself a lot. If people pay attention there are tears in my eyes, mostly when I'm on the bus. Sometimes when I'm walking down the street. Spin class was a good place to cry. I remember the instructor played Evanesense's "Bring me to Life" at the end of class and it was so beautiful and it summed up how I feel a lot of the time. I can see this intense beauty, feel it, be it... but then its just me. Sometimes I am on the same page as others. Most often I just don't know how to be on the same page as the people around me. It's not because they're "bad" or I'm "bad" --- its that I don't know how to be part of the Status Quo. As Annie said like a year ago.. she thinks my history was perfect the way it was because it made me who I am. I know thats true. Sometimes it hurts so bad all  can do is ball. I'm not really crying for myself. I'm healthy, cute, talented, thoughtful.. in my true nature. Of course I have really hideous, ugly parts of personality.
Last night at the Jammies I was talking to Frank and a girl said "excuse me" as I was repeating myself and I gave her such a glare. It was my instinctual reaction. I felt really bad for doing that. Small things like that just make me feel like I'm in the way... and I dwell on them... there has to be a root for that in my past.
Crying to my dad to stop his drugs and him not being able to change even when his daughter was begging him... somehow it just wasn't worth it to him. He's so smart. such a hard worker. So many humans are. But, we corrupt our souls - as Islam says.
Entering a killer piece into a spiritual art show at church Saturday. Eric got his done finally. last minute. How am I to know that my effort towards him is doing any good? He's gotta be teaching me things. About patience. About love. About being happy, just being.
I don't understand it though. I don't know why someone would go through this life and squander it.
That's what a lazy person is doing -- squandering their life. Man. how can you say stuff like that and still be wanted? When you convict people... that is a dangerous business. That is probably part of why Becky loves me so much despite all my tears. She sees that I just cannot operate in a base, dishonest, corrupted way. I get scared sometimes that Eric is teaching me not to care. If I am sitting here with tears streaming down my face, employing this skill I've developed out of a love for words... I've gotta care somewhere.
Adena likes my rainbow shirt. Awesome. I got that at Bibles for Missions thrift back in high school. It is one of my favorites.