Okay, let me just say I have no idea where this came from. I was suffering from insomnia so I thought I'd write in my journal to relax and this just poured out. I also want to appologize in advance if this is hard to follow. I've never really attempted anything so abstract or stream of consciousness before. I was really interested in exploring what was going on in Dave's mind. Of course, I don't know what really IS going on in there (who does besides the writers?) so apart from the events that actually happened in the show, the rest is based on my own personal experiences and thoughts during high school. Yes, I am a Karofsky -shame-

Love it or hate it, please let me know with a review! :)

Everyone always assumes that Dave Karofsky is a moron. Most people only need to spend a few minutes with him to come to this assumption. And no matter how many minutes they spend with him after, he never does anything to make them think that they've assumed wrong. What they don't realize is, that's because he want's it that way. It's a lot easier to be a stereotypical 'dumb jock' than it is to be what he really is. What I really am.

In my mind, I think of 'Karofsky' as a character in a play. The play is called Life. I know people will say that's not healthy, that life is real and not make believe. But in my mind it seems that my real life hasn't begun yet. I'm always waiting for 'the moment' when my true life starts and I can stop pretending to be 'Karofsky' and start being my True Self. Because no matter how hard I try to work it out, there is just no way that my True Self can survive in this play, Life. I've gone over a hundred different scenarios in my mind but none of them make any sense. That's why I play Karofsky. He makes sense. But I never stop hoping that someday the play veers off course, into some alternate reality, where I will make sense. I won't miss Karofsky for a second.

Like I said, I'm not as stupid as I pretend to be. I'm definitely not a genius or anything, don't get me wrong. I would get decent grades in school, A's and B's, but I would have to study to keep them up. Sometimes I think I'm becoming too comfortable as Karofsky, that's why I stopped studying and my grades started slipping. But my True Self knows that's not true. I don't study anymore because it seems hopeless. I used to tell myself that it would be worth it someday, when my real life begins. That my good grades would help me then. Or maybe my true life would even begin BECAUSE of my good grades. Everyone has heard a story about a kid going off to college and 'finding himself', whatever that means.

I've been trying to figure it out since that day. What happened to make me give up on the one glimmer of hope I was clinging to? I mean, there is still no reason why I CAN'T go to college, somewhere far away where nobody knows me, or about me. So, why did I give up? Nothing changed. My family, my friends, they didn't become any MORE tolerant. I didn't become any LESS afraid. I know it has something to do with needing a dream to follow. Before, my dream was to get away from here. Because I knew that if there was anything in this world that would make me happy, it sure as hell wouldn't be found in THIS nowhere. But I was wrong about that. And that shattered the dream.

How do you deal with it, when your dreams are destroyed in front of you? I Googled it- broken dreams. It seems that finding a new dream is the answer. But for me, I don't think that's possible. I could pretend. Pretend to want something else. But isn't that what I'm already doing? Sometimes I have nightmares about it; the exact moment that my dreams were stolen away. It was over a year ago now. In the halls of McKinley High, of all places. It kind of makes sense though, when I really think about it. Those halls were always hell for me, from day one. Playing Karofsky, in his toughest scene. Trying to remember who to shout to, who to laugh at, who's shoulder to pat and who's to shove. Always waiting for the inevitable moment where you flub your lines and the audience stares and boos. What better place is there for losing all hope?

I knew it was over as soon as I saw him. And the thing that bothered me most at that moment wasn't even that this person had ruined my dreams without even realizing it. Or even that my dreams were ruined. I was most bothered by the fact that I had seen him before and nothing had happened then. It was back in the 7th grade that I saw him before, and my dreams had remained intact. He hadn't even changed since then, not really. It must have been me that changed. Did that mean it was really me who ruined my dreams? I'm still trying to figure it out.

Regardless of who's fault it is, I still don't study. College means nothing to me now. Before I would think about it when things got tough, when I felt my mask slipping. 'Only a few years left' I would say to myself, 'and then you are free.' You'll go far away, and Karofsky can stay here. And you will find IT, the thing that will take away the emptiness. How could I have known that I had already met that thing, the thing that would fill my heart up? What a cruel joke the fates played on me. Because my True Self can't exist here in this Life. I don't make sense here in Lima, Karofsky does. So how could that One Thing be here, where I cannot be? Where I can never be? There is no use going far away now. Happiness is unreachable everywhere.

I can't concentrate anymore, and each day is worse. I just keep trying to stay in character, trying not to slip up. Just hold the mask in place one more day. Think of Karofsky's friends. Think of your parents. Keep holding on. As soon as you graduate, you can go somewhere - it doesn't matter where now - and you can let it fall apart. But don't mess up until then. But I already have and I don't know how to fix it. I shouldn't have let it happen but I couldn't stand it anymore. He was yelling; pointing out every little thing about Karofsky that he hated. Normally, I wouldn't care. Why WOULD I care if someone hates Karofsky? If they think he's stupid, chubby, immature? Cruel, awful, revolting? That's him, not me. But it wasn't just someone. That's why I cared.

It was the look in his eyes I think, that made me slip. The hate, the anger. Fear. The looks other people directed at me meant nothing to me. Well, not much anyway. Before they meant either 'Good job, I'm buying your act' or the opposite. But he was the One Thing that had ever made me feel anything real. And he hated me. Not the real me, but the only me that I could ever show to him. And that was heartbreaking. Why couldn't I have met him out there? Maybe he would still have hated me. But somehow I think even that would have been easier to accept than the not knowing.

After the day when the thing I feared most happened, I felt like I was in a trance for a long time. I couldn't make sense of my own mind. I had ruined everything. My years of work making my Karofsky believable were for nothing. How could I have let myself be SEEN? Out of costume, out of character. I think I was most surprised by the fact that it didn't all just END. I had never thought about what would happen, if I did something like I did. I just knew that I didn't belong here, in this Life. So how could it go on, now that I had been seen in it? But it was only by one person. Maybe that was the difference. If one person in the audience finds a fault in the play, it only matters if they tell the rest of the audience. If they don't tell, the rest of the audience will have no idea that anything had gone wrong at all. But how could you stop that one person from whispering to the person sitting in the next seat?

I lie to him and he believes me. Why wouldn't he? He has bought my acting up until now without a single doubt. One glimpse of my True Self vs. a thousand glimpses of Karofsky. Why should he not believe in Karofsky more? So I'm not surprised when I tell him I will kill him if he tells my secret and I see his eyes fill with true fear. I'm not surprised one bit. But I'm hurt inside, more than I even thought was still possible.

Sometimes I can't believe how easily I picked the act back up. I could never even watch live TV growing up because when I'd hear my favorite singers or actors make a mistake, I couldn't comprehend how they could just go on like they hadn't embarrassed themselves in front of the whole world. I knew if that had been me, I would have run off the stage and never shown my face again. At least that's what I thought. But it was easier than I could have imagined to put the mask back on. To fall back into character. Maybe Karofsky's more a part of me than I thought. But that thought is terrible. I don't want to believe it, so instead I try to convince myself that I'm stronger than I thought I was. That appearances don't mean as much to me as I once believed. That maybe I could even show my True Self again sometime, since Life didn't end after all. Since I didn't hide my face in shame, but picked myself up and got on with the show. Just a glimpse of me here and there, what could it hurt?

I woke up this morning and the hopelessness was gone. I stared at my bowl of oatmeal for over an hour, just trying to figure out WHY. The answer was obvious: I had a new dream. A new goal. It took forever to finally grasp it in my hand and really understand. But when I did, I felt alive again for the first time since the day HE stepped foot in McKinley High and turned my world upside down. Just a glimpse here and there. To start. But as the audience got used to these glimpses of ME in my Karofsky act, I would make them more frequent. Gradually, slowly. And Life wouldn't end. It would go on, and they would believe it and I wouldn't hide my face anymore. And eventually, maybe Karofsky would be gone completely, and it would be just me left. And maybe then... maybe then he would look at me and there would be no hate. No fear. No revulsion. Maybe.

I'm sitting in the principal's office. My dad is here. And He's here. I knew something like this was coming, after what happened with his dad yesterday. I tell myself it doesn't matter, that my breakfast epiphany is unchanged. But I feel fear, burning in the pit of my stomach. What if everything falls apart right now? I can do gradual, I know I can. Can't I? But if my act is completely blown, all at once... I don't know. I look at him, let him see the fear in my eyes. But is it too much? Not enough? Maybe I can't do this at all. His eyes are on me, piercing me. He hesitates, doesn't give me away. And I feel like I'm defective because I should be relieved, but instead I just feel hollow. Like there's more coming. Something awful.

Expelled. I'm trying to wrap my head around it. I can't say I'm surprised because Karofsky has been awful for weeks now. How could it NOT come to this? But what does it mean for him, for me? In the car with my dad, I ask myself what my act was for at all? To keep Dad from being disappointed. Disappointed by my True Self, who could never be the son he wanted. But Karofsky isn't the son he wanted now. Shitty grades, bullying, expelled. A disappointment. Maybe that is my true state of being, and that's why I couldn't even act as something else. I ask him, 'What now?' and he grumbles about an appeal. And I want that. I want another chance, to get good grades again. To not be a horrible bully. To be the son I always tried to be for him. It seems once you start wanting, you can't stop. I want more things every moment. A second chance, to reveal my True Self, to have HIS eyes on me again, piercing me again, but different.

I prayed. Begged really. Not 'give me what I want God', but 'give me a chance to get what I want God'. Just one chance. I felt too sick to sleep, thinking about it. But being awake was too awful so I took some sleeping medicine to make things go faster. Before, the days ran together and time meant nothing. Now it couldn't go any slower. It's worse than any torture. Finally, it's morning but things still drag on. I distract myself with the homework I had, before. Just in case I go back. If my one chance comes, I will be ready. I decide to do other things, just in case. I clean my room for the first time in years. I go through my clothes, and throw the ones I really dislike into a plastic bag. I don't even know what kind of clothes I DO like. I never let myself think about it before. Finally, the time comes. And goes. They gave me my chance.

I'm in the parking lot of McKinley and for the first time, I feel like I can't bear to step inside. What will it be like, how will I do it, will it fall apart this time? But I make myself go in. I listen to the buzzing in the halls. Or the Hells as I've become used to calling them. And they are truly Hell today. I hear it over and over and over as I walk to my locker. He's gone. HE is gone. Kurt is gone. Because of Karofsky. Because of me. And then the buzzing is just in my head.

I got one of the things I wanted, my second chance. Shouldn't I be grateful? I swore I wouldn't waste it. So I hold on to that. Karofsky studies, get good grades. He plays sports. Pats the right shoulders, shoves the wrong ones. Not too much though, he is on a final warning after all. He wears the clothes in the plastic bag. They aren't so bad, really. Karofsky's friends buy it. So does Dad. He doesn't look so disappointed these days.