can't fucking stand all your uneeded shit. why don't you get your head out of your ass and learn some damn communication skills or some trust or SOMETHING. like i keep saying, keep doing it and see where its gonna get you. cause you know where that is where it has been getting you to? NOWHERE. exactly. wow. i'm laughing because it's so passed anger it's just a laughable matter now. i understand why you are the way you are but i don't even care anymore. because it's been forever and you need to do something or else something bad is giong to happen. and well, as much as it isn't in my nature to say this, I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO!
ha!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
i quit
today.
i don't know if it's me over thinking or if it shows some kind of symbolism to the way things have been lately...
i don't know if it's me over thinking or if it shows some kind of symbolism to the way things have been lately...
Friday, March 13, 2009
i wonder if anyone knows how fucking hard it is to deal with this shit.
i hate this more than anything. so sick of all this bullshit. blow the fuck over.
get the fuck up and fix your damn life and don't blwo things out of proportion or throw things on the floor or curse or decide one day to just wake up and change everything. destruction never fucking worked. IT'S NOT FUCKING WORKING.
fuck this.
so fucking tired of being tired
of being tired. fuck.
i hate this more than anything. so sick of all this bullshit. blow the fuck over.
get the fuck up and fix your damn life and don't blwo things out of proportion or throw things on the floor or curse or decide one day to just wake up and change everything. destruction never fucking worked. IT'S NOT FUCKING WORKING.
fuck this.
so fucking tired of being tired
of being tired. fuck.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
CANT SEE.
i hate that you have no substance. where the fuck does it go? why are people so simple minded. why do they not stretch their fucking limbs and reach for everything they can. why don't they appreciate. i hate that i can't write. i can't write. every single wall. not even minus half. every. fucking. wall. nothing is getting easier. more work gets piled on. harder to keep up. harder to stand. harder. your selfishness annoys the fuck out of me. OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES. i don't treat people right anymore. i dont treat myself right or the road i walk on, either. i need to stop. it's becoming a problem. hell, it's been a problem. nobody is worth it because i dont even feel worth it. i doubt myself. i can't stand up and scream for what i believe in, no matter how much i want to. the parts of me im not in touch with take over. i stutter. really.
and i feel so isolated. it's like everyday i wake up with a ton of bricks on my eyelids. maybe not even that. more so on my legs. i wake up and i prepare for a batttle against no one. no one except for myself. and that's incredibly hard. i don't even know what happened to my own happiness. it comes for 3 hours. it goes away. i take licks of the closest thing i have to contentment and realize it's just barely hanging by a limb. it's taking forever for me to get it in my head. i hate repetition but maybe that's what i need. everything is always a cycle. here we go again. again, again. i dont write in this because i care what people are giong to think. and i care what people are going to think becuase i care about what i think way more than i should. but fuck it. just fuck it. i need to vent. sounds gay. i dont' really hate as much as i say i do. i'm just angry. and i'm about to say it again soon becuase i know i'm going to think of someting else that isn't pleasant to me. like, right now.
i hate the fact that i know someone is going to take my place. i wanted to be the first person. i wanted to create a world with every idea and it's being put on hold. it's being restricted. i don't know if i'm going to feel this strongly next year, this time. i want it though. i want it so fucking bad. it's a passion but it needs to be pushed. i need to be pushed.
i miss you. i miss you a lot. more than i thought i would or more than you'd think becuase i still don't know the way your legs walk or the shape of your eyes. but i suppose that doesn't matter because unlike everything else over the past year almost that has proven my inabilities, you're proving them wrong. and i like that. i really like that becuase it's showing me patience and i really need to get some before i blow my head off. and you know what really doesn't add to that? i've called carrabas FOUR times now. four. and each time they put me on hold forever, hang up, or tell me to call back. well wtf, i don't have all day. i don't have all month, either. i'd understand once or twice, but four times? and probably a fifth time too. it's just really not helping. but that's minor. everything is minor, really. unless you add all the minors together which makes them equvilent to something of greater substance which is exactly the damn circle i run in my head every minute of every day.
i could tell all of this to someone. i could just rant the fuck out their head and make them sit here and listen to me. but i dont want to. trust. maybe that's a factor. that is a factor. fuck. justin doesn't talk to me anymore. it's weird because i liked that company so much more than i've liked other company. but i think i know why and the reason is bad and im mad at myself for allowing that. isn't it funny that things happen and you don't even realize them till weeks after? i've always wondered what it'd be like to overcome your subconcious. if that is even possible. see, the way i see it is that your eyes stem into your brain. a certain section. and once youve seem all there is to see in your subconcious and uncovered all the reasons for everything you've ever done and will do, those eyes are behind your brain. but instead of them being blocked, they just see straight. binocular vision. best for perception, best to see the drips of water and faint smirks on a boys face.
i'm not even aware of how much i miss it. i don't even think i do anymore. i've become so immune to it that i just don't even care. but that's not true and sometimes it just contradicts. basically, i'm a mess. and i don't know how else to put it but i'm really trying to get a grip and put the right damn shoes on for once. because i had the right ones on at one point and then lost them. but maybe shoes aren't even needed. let your skin sink into the mud. feel the ground beneath your feed. absorb everything and sweat out what you translate. come on, it's easy.
order, order, order.
where the fuck is the fucking love.
and i feel so isolated. it's like everyday i wake up with a ton of bricks on my eyelids. maybe not even that. more so on my legs. i wake up and i prepare for a batttle against no one. no one except for myself. and that's incredibly hard. i don't even know what happened to my own happiness. it comes for 3 hours. it goes away. i take licks of the closest thing i have to contentment and realize it's just barely hanging by a limb. it's taking forever for me to get it in my head. i hate repetition but maybe that's what i need. everything is always a cycle. here we go again. again, again. i dont write in this because i care what people are giong to think. and i care what people are going to think becuase i care about what i think way more than i should. but fuck it. just fuck it. i need to vent. sounds gay. i dont' really hate as much as i say i do. i'm just angry. and i'm about to say it again soon becuase i know i'm going to think of someting else that isn't pleasant to me. like, right now.
i hate the fact that i know someone is going to take my place. i wanted to be the first person. i wanted to create a world with every idea and it's being put on hold. it's being restricted. i don't know if i'm going to feel this strongly next year, this time. i want it though. i want it so fucking bad. it's a passion but it needs to be pushed. i need to be pushed.
i miss you. i miss you a lot. more than i thought i would or more than you'd think becuase i still don't know the way your legs walk or the shape of your eyes. but i suppose that doesn't matter because unlike everything else over the past year almost that has proven my inabilities, you're proving them wrong. and i like that. i really like that becuase it's showing me patience and i really need to get some before i blow my head off. and you know what really doesn't add to that? i've called carrabas FOUR times now. four. and each time they put me on hold forever, hang up, or tell me to call back. well wtf, i don't have all day. i don't have all month, either. i'd understand once or twice, but four times? and probably a fifth time too. it's just really not helping. but that's minor. everything is minor, really. unless you add all the minors together which makes them equvilent to something of greater substance which is exactly the damn circle i run in my head every minute of every day.
i could tell all of this to someone. i could just rant the fuck out their head and make them sit here and listen to me. but i dont want to. trust. maybe that's a factor. that is a factor. fuck. justin doesn't talk to me anymore. it's weird because i liked that company so much more than i've liked other company. but i think i know why and the reason is bad and im mad at myself for allowing that. isn't it funny that things happen and you don't even realize them till weeks after? i've always wondered what it'd be like to overcome your subconcious. if that is even possible. see, the way i see it is that your eyes stem into your brain. a certain section. and once youve seem all there is to see in your subconcious and uncovered all the reasons for everything you've ever done and will do, those eyes are behind your brain. but instead of them being blocked, they just see straight. binocular vision. best for perception, best to see the drips of water and faint smirks on a boys face.
i'm not even aware of how much i miss it. i don't even think i do anymore. i've become so immune to it that i just don't even care. but that's not true and sometimes it just contradicts. basically, i'm a mess. and i don't know how else to put it but i'm really trying to get a grip and put the right damn shoes on for once. because i had the right ones on at one point and then lost them. but maybe shoes aren't even needed. let your skin sink into the mud. feel the ground beneath your feed. absorb everything and sweat out what you translate. come on, it's easy.
order, order, order.
where the fuck is the fucking love.
Monday, March 2, 2009
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