I Am Jack's Xanga

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MeTaLcOrE_wArrEn
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Name: walker
Birthday: 5/25/1900
Gender: Male


Interests: MUSIC!!! theres way too many bands to name
Expertise: uhhh i dont know
Occupation: Government
Industry: Government


Message: message me


Member Since: 2/16/2005

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Sunday, September 16, 2007

What a being am I to lie, even to myself? I'm fooling no one with my petty outward appearance. I'm nothing you will ever want. It seems like so much has been experienced within the small expanse of my life. It seems this world has nothing left to offer me. Maybe new options will be explored in death; the last hope.


Friday, September 14, 2007

This sadistic mixture of love and hate within my heart I fear may never subside. They say pursuing things in the same manner while expecting a different outcome results in insanity, and if that be so, I'm so close to losing my mind. I'm in a new environment, full of new and intruiging souls throwing themselves at me, each whispering the same words whilst staring into my hollowed eyes: "You're like no one I've ever met." I assure you all that I'm nothing special, just a lost soul in constant search of an answer, whether my temperment be violent or submissive. The past behind me reveals such masochism that I wince in disgust at the very thought of it. God, I must have been so tedious. Such needful things are difficult to nurture in the hands of any being, and I now realize you weren't ready for it. I still miss you so, though God knows I'd never admit to it. Such an expression would suggest weakness, and of all the things I indulge in at this present time, cowardice is not one of them. I've changed almost completely. I no longer recognize the person in the mirror. I am not yet sure if I like him or not, but time tells all things; and supposedly heals all wounds, but I doubt that much.


Monday, July 23, 2007

I don't know if you'll ever be aware of how much I miss you.

I wish you would come back to me.

Just allow me to embrace you once again.


Thursday, July 19, 2007

I hate you. I hate you for inviting me into your house that night after the movies. I hate you for unbuttoning my pants and sliding them down to my knees. I hate you for those days you asked me to see you before work. I hate you for the deep conversations we engaged in after midnight. I hate you for lying to me. For telling me that everything is okay when it's not. I hate you for scorning the things you used to adore about me. I hate you for telling me that everything is my fault when really you bear the blame. I hate you for asking me to have sex with you when we were both drunk. And I hate myself for giving in. I hate you for what you've done. I hate you for telling me you still care about me. I hate you for telling me I'm the only person you like when I'm not. I hate you for texting me and asking me to come into town. I hate the way I lose sleep with your smile stuck inside my brain. I hate you for telling me I don't love you, that all I am is dependant on you. Isn't that what love is? Isn't intimacy the act of sharing things with eachother, the act of being open, even with your deepest, darkest secrets? I thought maybe you were alot of things, but a cheater was never one of them. I suppose that just makes me blind. I guess that makes me a subject of simple idiocracy. Dear, I think if you believe half the things you say, your head may be the one not screwed on quite right. I hate you for buying a blue notebook and recording your feelings, claiming that it would be a way we could always talk to eachother. I hate you for laying your head on my chest, bare under the sheets, telling me we would always be together. I hate the way you begged me to come see you when I was away. I hate the way you submitted yourself to me, only to quickly withdraw. I hate the way you made me think that I was insane, the way you made me think that I was the one with the problems, when really I was only head over heels for a beautiful girl. I hate the way you made me think that I was your savior from depression. I hate the way you made me think you would always be around. I hate the nights I sat up with you, crying into the phone reciever. I hate the way you said, "We'll always be okay, baby." I hate the way you told me you thought about him less when I was around. I hate you for everything. But what I hate most is that I don't hate you. I love you with all my heart.

And it shatters me.


Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Am I really this revolting?

Am I really this repulsive?

Am I really this disgusting and intrusive that you can't bring yourself to care?

I'm just your doormat.

I'm just a toy you play with when you feel like it.

And my most embarassing admission is that I'll always be around.



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