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| "Life should not be like that." Well, my dear William, it is. And I fucking hate it. I hate how you can be elated at the sight or touch of one person and then at the end of a casual conversation at a local coffee shop, your chance at temporary happiness is crushed like the pitiful hope it is. :sigh: Mr. Sandman, make me your protege. Take me to the land of dreams and non-existance. I hate when people flaunt their happiness in my face because I am still not. As much as I like to pretend and as much as I fake it through out the day, I still go home broken-hearted, crushed and torn apart. The pathetic thing is, I don't know why. I don't know why I'm so emotionally paralyzed. I guess it's just the way I was meant to be. I want to be at ease again. I want to be able to stand outside, stare at the stars and only think about how beautiful they are. I don't want to think of my bitter past or my uncertain future. Ugh, and Valentine's Day is coming. I think I'm going to throw an Anti-Love party. Complete with bleeding heart cupcakes. </3 And games like Stab The Heart ( a rip off Pin the Tail on the Donkey). FUCK LOVE.  And that's all I have to say about that. | | |
| OK, I lied. You can't click the link either so...copy and paste away! | | |
| Fuck. I had a fucking blog and the goddamn site freaked out on me. Let's try this again. Been 8 days since I updated this mother-fucker. Things are definately looking up. This grudge I had against the world seems to have vanished. Sure, I still don't give a fuck and I'm still pissed but that's the way I am, duh. Bitter, old, alone and the owner of 5 stray cats. Can we all say "hello future"? You know, I used to have this dream where I was an amazing domestic god. Take Martha Stewart and Bree Van De Camp on in a brawl and bake their asses in one of my award winning cherry pies. But this unrealistic thought is shattered by my love of tattoos, peircings, and the desire of a punk life. We're not talking Avril here, oh no. This gal: http://www.clairebear.com/distillers/images/spinarticle1.jpg [you need to click it because my computer is having homosexual tendencies.] But that bitch is what I like to call "perfection". Ah just you wait. High school reunion. "Is that really Corinna?!" Oh yeah. And future punk-rock star on my arm, Nikki Nyne. My other half if you will. I know, I know, "you took that asshole back?". Yes, yes I did. Got a problem? Yeah? Shut the fuck up. :scowl: You don't know. But seriously, he completes me. Sorry for getting cheesy and pathetic but he does. He's my Romeo to my Juliet, Shaggy to Scooby, the Green to my fucking Day for christ's sake. Tell me, does your boyfriend have the balls to jump off a gracery store? Ha! Didn't think so. :sigh: Not only that, he's rich, smart, pretty and funny. This is me swooning. Ok, out of my bubble. I think this little hiatis from my mother did me good. Breathe in that freedom! Anyways...I'm just rambling like a bitch so I'm sleeping. | | |
| Happy New Year you fucking bastards! "A new beginning" is the phrase usually heard around this time. And you're damn straight. Well let's see, in the past 4 days I had my world and heart thrown into a paper shedder. And then the pieces were used as kindling for a grand romance other than my own. I tell you, this love business is over-rated. My mind has tunnel visioned itself on this one damn situation and it's killing me. Upper-cut straight to the brain. KO'ed on the first round. I look around at my friend(s) and they're getting their life together, fixing issues and I really wish I could do the same. I mean I feel like I am but then I get the set-backs where all I think about is me and I dig a hole that's deeper than the one I was lying in in the beginning. If whoever reads this and gives a fuck were smart, they would start distancing themselves from me. I'm a toxic waste of a person, it's official. Tattoo a skull and cross bones right on my forehead. X out my eyes because the safety pin sticking out of my wrist is a good look for me. The blinking cursor mezmorizes me. Why did he do it? I tried to be the same me, I tried everything. Not good enough. He bitterly laughs at my pathetic attempts. Did I not cry enough cry enough for you? Did all my blood not suffice your sacrifice to your degrading and arrogant god? Why?! I'm sorry I don't read Plato. I'm sorry I don't care about the commersialism of the modern times! I'm sorry I'm not up to your par...I can't do this anymore. | | |
| Death is inevitable, so is sadness. Today had to be the blahest day known to man. An insomniac's dream. People fighting and bitching and me trying to find something to compare. It's useless. You love someone and it's almost like they don't love you back, even though they say it. Nail the coffin shut and fill it with dirt. You try and make conversation like decent people and all you get is a "yeah" or the ocassional "totally". Fags. What happens when the one you need disposes of you like torn wrapping paper? Recycle yourself and start new. Give up and move on? Not likely. I'm unhappy and the one person that matters doesn't even realize it. Can you see me at all? Am I a ghost? Just a memory while he lives his life? Listening to Armor For Sleep "What To Do When You Are Dead". I'm living that story. Only I'm breathing, unfortunately. Try to impress, try to get attention. Please don't give up on me. I'm begging, pleading. Please wait for me. Smeared make-up, everything is fading. It was never right from the beginning. Mistakes and tragedies made this relationship the way it is. The blame rests on my head, it always will. I'm the reason for my suffering. I could end this with one action and two words. Maybe I deserve this. Karma bit me in the ass. I should change a lot. But I am void of emotion. Robotic in everything I do. Follow the rules, respect all law. If I died, would he miss me? My heart hopes so but my mind thinks differently. Waging a war. Wishing fairytales do come true, knowing that that's foolish. I love you. Broken promises. I am not a priority anymore, never was. Lies! Sick of the bullshit and regretful of being fake. I had a dream the other night. Vague images of him laughing with someone else. Holding her hand, calling her angel instead of me. They see me. He shakes his head and continues laughing. Snap back to reality, cold and alone. Phone calls, never finished. Hoping he reads this, half of me knows if he did, I would die. I just wish I knew. ESP. Someone talk to him for me. I am not strong enough to do this on my own. Tears for him. True happiness is like Big Foot. Captured on film and faked but never really found. Urban legend. Walk away from this. Die within seconds because he is your life. War becomes nuclear. Affecting everything. Bleed black, cry red. Pour it out until it's clear. Was it really ever there? One big joke? Triple-dog dare you. Another bitter night, knowing he doesn't really care. | | |
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