And that's what you get. With that facade, you can do no wrong.

Aren't we, aren't we just adorable?
Isn't it, isn't it ridiculous, ridiculously odd.
I didn't choose this role, and I'm not getting paid but I'm expected to memorize this script without flaw or hesitation.
Which is it;
the boy or the book?
The writer or the words?
I think I'm so desperate and then you remind me.
I swear to god, I'm through with this.
I am the best liar I know.
You hate hate hate, you break me down.
You bring me down, sooo so far down.
Until there's nothing left, hatred aside.
I just want to be me again, I want to be myself.
I HATE what you've made me.
What I've become.
Thanks to you.
Thanks.
Thanks a lot.

Tell that bitch she just made my list of things to do tonight.

Light that smoke for giving up on me.
And one just 'cause they'll kill me sooner than your expectations.
I hope you choke on those words, that kiss, that bottle -- I confess.
Now ash yourself out on the insides.
When I said I loved you, I swear I lied.

Merry Christmas, I could care less.

Self-pity blog time? I think so.

I can't stand at all, it hurts, it makes me cry.
As they choke you, slap you, shake you, knock some fucking sense into your head.
You're such an idiot, you're such a brat, you're worthless.
Then I'm locked in the back bathroom.
Crying and choking on my words.
Begging and panting for breath.
And they don't care.
Hah. You fucking worthless brat, get up, enough of this bullshit.
That's all it is, bullshit.
You keep telling yourself that.
I'm a total WRECK.

Prescribe pills,
I'm alone in this bedroom.
She never fixes this.
Sick and sad.

Rip out my eyes.
Cut out my tongue.
Burn my vocal cords.
My only forms of communication.
You could save yourself, you could save us all.
I can't call for help.
You think you're oh-so-smart.
Survival never goes out of style.
But I've got one up on you,
these words will haunt your head.
Breaking hearts has never looked so cool, it's never felt SO GOOD, has it?
And when your hand print burns itself into my cheek, I'll imagine you torn apart.
Motionless, pleading, you're nothing, you're bleeding.

Take this to your grave, I'll take it to mine.
But at least he TRIED.
You made yourself all too obvious. You couldn't care less.
All too obvious.
I never have been good at multi-tasking.

I feel like I could write until my hand falls off, scream until my lungs go out.
About the things I want to wish upon you.
I'd write and scream all night if this didn't hurt so much.
As it is, I'm going to sleep.

I love this dirty feeling I get when I cry.
Aching head, aching hips and leaking eyes.
So this is my Christmas Eve.
I'm selfish, selfish, that's the only reason you'll see me.

I just fucking LOVE how everyone has a superiority complex.
Yes, everyone.
You, me. Everyone.
'I can't be wrong, it's YOU. You're wrong. I'm right. You're the problem. Not me. Never me.'
Save us from ourselves.
My mouth is moving too fast for you to figure it out, and this is dead.
Today is DEAD.
You're so dead to me.

Merry Christmas, mommy.
Next year, get me bullets and wrap them in shiny paper.
There's no point in being surreptitious about this anymore.
At least you would've saved one of us a life of misery.
I hate you.
Xoxo.
----------

I was mad when I wrote it. Christmas Eve. Don't necessarily take every word at face value.

Give me envy, give me malice, give me attention. Give me a break.

I feel like shit.
No, there's not anything you can do to make me feel better.
Not unless you've got a hand gun and weak morals.

Did everyone have a good Christmas? I got...
Makeup.
Incense.
Keyboard, mouse, and speakers.
Pillow.
Anime game.
Aquarium simulator.
And Audrey got mouse toys and fish.

I wasn't gonna put this next blog up, wrote it in with old pen and paper since my computer wasn't accessible but I guess I will.

I've got tears on my cheeks and blood on my lips. Your hands grip my hips, and you know how I LOVE IT.
And not one of those presents under the tree is for you, baby. Not one.

And we're so vicious. [Picture post!]

Accumulated thoughts over the past few days.

Took my brother to walmart, got our mom presents. So far I've wrapped eight.
Two for mom.
Two for James.
Two for Kristen.
One for Jon.
One for Emilee.

I wonder how many presents I've got under the tree this year, and it's Christmas Eve, isn't that exciting? I guess I should be more excited. Yeah. I guess so.
---

Aren't we so cute?
Cheating on cheaters.
Lying to liars.
Dreaming of dreamers.
We're just deceiving deceivers

I want to be a selective agonist.
And you'll be my receptor.

AND

WE'RE

SO

VICIOUS.



And that's right, I love you.

Neon lust, neon lips, neon trails with fingertips on your thighs.

Crazy insane, or insane crazy.

♥ I'm casually obsessed and I've forgiven death,
I am indifferent yet I am a total wreck.

I'm every cliche, but I simply do it best.
Our gossip lips stuttered every word I said.
I got your love letters,
corrected the grammar,
and sent them back.
It's true - romance is dead, I shot it in the chest then in the head.
I've never seen a heart I couldn't break.

Right now.

I feel it too.
Everything is empty.
I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself.
I do, I really do.
They tell me I don't have to worry but I'm not sure I believe them.
No matter how much I tell myself I need to get to sleep
or I need to get to typing
or I need to make a new update
or I need to feed my kitten
or I need to do the dishes
or I need to get a shower...
No matter what it is, I fucking can't.
I have no motivation, I'm so tired, I'm so worn.
Please pull me out of this.
Fix me, please please please.
And I'm going to sleep.
Fix me in fourty-five.
And long live the car-crash hearts.
Etc.
Xoxo.

I'm alone in this bed, house, and head. He never fixes this, but at least he........

My eyes feel bruised from all this lack of sleep.
They probably look that way too.
Yesterday brought back old memories.
Tickling, touching, teasing, tasting.
Just like old times and I'll write more when I wake up.
Promise, a real update.
For now, lyrics that no one will bother to read, and then sleep that won't really help my lack of energy.

" If you're under the impression I'm alright
I guess you never noticed
I guess you might have known
I've been holding this together for so long
But I guess you might have noticed
Well, I guess you...

The beast within the burden is all mine
A product of his father
A slave to his bride
I feel I need to reveal my true stripes
But the bitch behind all this trouble it
Waits behind the wind to find out

You set me up to leave me
You wanted to feel
Shallow love, shallow lives
With every word, you speak
Of what you wanted from me
Wanted from me, yeah

I'm sinking more and more into my lies
Now home is just a pinprick in the vastness of my life
Feel the pressure, feel the pleasure
Feel the pain, you're not alone
Feel the pleasure, feel the pain
Feel the pain

You set me up to leave me
You wanted to feel
Shallow love, shallow lives
With every word, you speak
Of what you wanted from me
Wanted from me, yeah

Realizations, I am not what you thought I was
You change directions every time someone judges us
In moderation, what was once us now never was
You change directions every time someone judges us

You set me up to leave me
You wanted to feel
Shallow love, shallow lives
With every word, you speak
Of what you wanted from me
Wanted from me, yeah

Realizations, I am not what you thought I was
In moderation, what was once us now never was"

Long live the puzzle that is my mind, fix me in forty-five.

I know you will, babyyyy, let's go.

Oh and I've never been good at putting my tears on ice, baby.
I want them now.
I want them fast.
I want them hard.
I want them rough.
I want them to HURT.
Just like everything else, including you and your smile.
Your words. Your laugh. You.

Can't we go back to the old days?
Please please please.
Sitting on the patio watching the lights across the fence and letting the wind freeze me through and through and only sitting out there so they couldn't hear me crying or see me smoking those stolen cigarettes and then you made me smile.
Standing by that railing, friends and family talking about the game of hide and seek we're playing. "Aly, are you coming? Aly, come on!" No, I'm not, his words are making me smile so hard.
"Last song, Aly." "Aww come on, the next one is good too." Sitting in the car and making her listen like it'll make her grin like I do on the way home and you know I ALWAYS got her to listen to one more song as you made me smile.

The best part of believe is the lie.
So relevant then, so relevant now.
You could, you so could.
Don't tell me your heart beats for me, that makes me want to rip it out and hold it close.

Fix me fix me fix me I'm a jigsaw puzzle baby, where's the last piece? Talk some sense into me, I dare you. Knock some sense into my head. Clean me up make me shine like new. Make me squeaky clean, I fucking daaaare you to try.

Oh you tell me not to worry but these puzzle pieces in my head.
They're so scrambled and only fourteen more days.
Until 01:01:08 as you put it and I'm excited.
Thirteen days until my birthday, six until Christmas, and...
I'm somehow so much more excited for the first.

Love you miss you, oh-so-tired. Xoxo.

All was golden in the sky.

All was golden when the day met the night.

I'm so in love with life right now, I want to soak up your sunshine and lace my fingers with yours and just run.
I love you and I know you'll never be perfect, but you're all that I've got.
Keep me warm when the icy walls of my heart melt.
This is how you make me feel, you make me SMILE.

You make me smile.

Xoxo.

Y/N? Because I'm sick of aches in my head and tears in my eyes.

&&
"And I hope this is the last time, 'cause I'd never say no to you.
But there's no way to talk to you, this conversation's been...
Dead.
On.
Arrival."

Take these words in, take them like you did the foreign excitement.
These aren't just words, they're my feelings.
Are you listening?
Listen to me, take these words in, examine the meaning.
This isn't an in-one-ear-out-the-other day, alright?
Open your ears and open your mind, shut down your conscience and your pride.

Prologue
Seth, this is for you.
It's the best I could do
with four hours of sleep
three tylenol
two red eyes
and one severe lack of inspiration.
It's not meant to impress,
just meant to address
that I have to confess
what I feel.
But feelings are a process, simply
molecules that react chemically.
So I'm sending my molecules to you
and I hope that they get through.

Xoxo
When the Moon fell in love with the Sun
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night.

When the Moon found the Sun
He looked like he was barely hanging on
While her eyes saved his life
In the middle of summer

So he said, "Would it be alright,
If we just sat and talked for a little while?
If in exchange for your time,
I give you this smile"

So she said, "Hey that's okay,
As long as you can make a promise not to break
My little heart and
Leave me all alone
In the summer"

&LetTheGamesBegin
See, let me teach you something about me.
I'll take what you say to heart and hang on every word.
And then I'll retort with recycled phrases that mean nothing.
Because that's just me.
Would you believe me if I said I didn't need you?
'Cause I wouldn't believe you if you said the same to me.
Don't be so scared to take a second for reflection.
Someone, somewhere, said some things
that may have sparked some sympathy.

"I've been thinking of you almost constantly, if that means anything at all."

Well yeah, it would mean a hell of a lot if you meant it.
Now let's analyze, it might have been your guilty conscience.
And I know I'm every cliché, don't point it out to me.
I might be an accident, but I'm still trying.
I'm stuck between second chances and final notices.
So let's try for a bit of both.

This is a final notice.
And you'll think what you want, there's nothing I can do to change that.
Victimization? Sure, why not? Selfishness? Maybe.
Call it what you will but here it is in black and white.
Things aren't going to get better if we don't BOTH try.

And this is your final notice,
you may not know this
but I'm not alright sometimes
and these aren't just poem lines.
If you say this makes you happy, then I'm not the only one lying.
And I'm guessing you've found out by now I'm the only one trying.
This is all I have to say to you until it's better
and I never promised I'd stick around through bad weather.
But I will if it takes that but I have to explain
if you don't have an umbrella, there's no stopping the rain.

And I bet you're sitting there thinking
about how wrong you just KNOW I am.
But I'm giving you this final notice.
And one last chance.

So reply with a yes or a no, and that's it.
I don't want to hear how I'm wrong or hear that you quit.
Just a yes or a no; are you willing to try?
And I don't mean that you'll just apologize.
I mean, ask me what's wrong and show some concern
or at least fucking talk to me without so little discern.
It's like red pill or blue pill, and you have to choose.
Pick one or the other, and then get your dues.
Red pill, you win. Blue pill, I lose.
But it's not a movie, and there is no script.
It's not just as simple as 'sit there, tight-lipped'.
Pick yes, say you'll try, and I'll stick around.
Pick no, you give up, and I'll turn around.
And I'll leave, seriously, because this is final call.
And I'll stall and I'll scrawl on the walls of this all
A poem that neither of us can recall.
Just remember with everything, there's consequences.
If you tell me to stay, then put down your defenses.
Put down your excuses, your ego, your pride.
And learn to say sorry and just learn to TRY.
Learn to pick your battles and not jump at fights.
I get if you're busy or sick, I get if you're tired.
That happens to everyone, but your excuses expired.
A long time ago, now I'm kind of confused -
am I expendable or important, or simply defused?

Just tell me if you're willing, a simple yes or no.
It's simple as that, pick the latter, and I'll go.
Or pick the former and we'll find compromise.
But I'm sick of aches in my head and tears in my eyes.
If you'd rather give up, then I'll give up too.
Write me off and move on, and I'll forget you.
But if I matter and you care, if it means anything,
and if you can realize just how much it will sting...

Refrain from digressing,
I'm really just stressing,
And so, more or less,
just give me a yes
and I won't leave,
hearts on sleeves,
I'll keep trying...
or a no,
and I'll go
give up
and I won't say you owe
me a thing, but although
we'll stop lying...

And that's it, I just want you to know this.
I meant what I said when I said 'final notice'.
Last chances, last option, last choices, last call.
Just say yes or no; decide once and for all.

Maybe he won't find out what I know; you were the last good thing about this part of town.

I just realized that there is no nine in the afternoon.
There's really not, think about it.
There's 9AM, but that's in the morning.
And then there's 9PM, but you'd consider that nighttime.
Or at least evening, but not afternoon.
It brings a whole new sarcastic outlook on the song.

Losing the feeling of feeling unique,
do you know what I mean?
Do you feel it too?

Blinding lights and deafening screams,
all pale in comparison to your words.

Adrenaline addiction;
"This is a stick up, give me all your inspiration."

I think I like it.

But I'll teach you a lesson for keeping secrets from me.
You should try saying no once in a while.
I confess, I messed up; drop an 'I'm sorry' like you're still around.
Yeah it's my fault too for being stubborn.
But fuck you and your faults; fix them or find new friends.
You're like coal in Christmas stockings.
You're the lack of toilet paper in the only open stall.
You're taking friendship and making it cheap.
If friendship is a prostitute, you're a two-cent whore.
And I'm just your daily dose of reality.

Sew my eyes shut, blindfold me, rip my eyes out of their sockets.
Do what you need in the most sensual way possible.
VIOLATE ME.
Just don't make me watch you do it.
Things are so much better without sight, listen to words and voices,
without putting meaning behind physical.

And I, for one, won't stand for this - you can take this to your grave.
But I'm not making any promises.
I might be an accident, but I'm done trying.

Xoxo.

I'll miss the same old stuff but I'll love you forever and I'm looking forward to this. Just please don't get me too hooked on you.

If ignorance is bliss, you must be loving life.
I need silence to think.
Wrap my wrists in gauze and tape my mouth shut.
Paint my lips red and my eyes black.
I could be yours if you'd let me.
We'll get out of this town and never look back.

Nine in the afternoon,
god you make me melt.
I love/hate it.
Driving me out of my mind.

Blehhhh.

True romance was dead long before you came along.

I don't like this title too much, I'm changing it. To what? I don't know.

Don't feel like blogging and I really can't force it.
Just gonna let my fingers go and see what happens.

......

......

......

This is me giving up, watch with awe.
I've never heard this Fall Out Boy song before and I don't like it.
My leg is cold.
Actually, I take that back, I might like this song.
It's growing on me.
No, I'm not going to say which one.

Not even going to attempt to write anything intelligible.
Sleeptime yet again.
12 days until Christmas, 18 until my birthday, 19 until a new year and a new chance to rip ourselves apart.
Okay, I'm done.
Really.

Srsly tl;dr. [Too long; don't read.] Same familiar shit with an added dose of wit.

I only keep myself this sick in the head... ('cause I love how the words get me (off).) >> ???

"Don't take these words at face value, or don't take them at all."
"Same familiar shit, just with more wit."
"Same familiar shit with an added dose of wit."
DING DING DING.

I miss Josh.

The following is directly from an AIM convo, so not edited or thought through, etc:

I'm so stuck.
In everything.
Like tracing shapes over and over until your fingers bleed.
Or standing in the rain until you're soaked just to know you can.
God I wish it was raining.
I want to shake things up and make everyone see.
What it's like to feel like this.
But at the same time I want to know what it's like to be someone else.
I want to paint everything black for miles.
Until it's too dark to see.
Do you know what that's like?
I want to stare into the sun until my eyes bleed.
Too bad the sun never shines bright enough in a place like this.
But I never really know what I want, I feel like I could do something reckless tonight.
Like steal a car and rob a bank.
Except I don't know how to drive or where to get a gun.
So there goes any chance of adventure.
Leaving me with a kind of empty blankness.
To just sit here.
And think about how things could be better even if it won't help.
Because nothing ever does.
But the sun never shines bright enough in a place like this.
It would shine brighter if we painted everything black.
But then.
It would be too dark to see.
Is that weird?
It's like screaming in a quiet classroom.
Or running out into the middle of a football game.
And everyone just stares at you like you're crazy and they hate you.
That's how you make me feel sometimes.
I wish I could sew my eyes shut.
I wish I could press my palms into my eyes until I just stop seeing.
And crying.
Like senses numbed in a less romantic way.
If I could do that...
Just sew my eyes shut, pierce my eardrums and rip out my vocal chords...
I would.
I could.
And I probably should.
It's like the beautiful girls who say they're fat and ugly, you know they do it just to hear you tell them they're wrong.
Like calling white black or red blue and green yellow.
It just doesn't work because you'll get grey or purple.
But if everything was grey and purple, things would be so much better.
And I hate the feeling of dried tears on my cheeks.
But it happens too often.
It reminds me of that Johnny The Homicidal Maniac comic and the wall of blood.
Where he keeps killing people to keep the blood fresh.
Because when it dries, it's not the same color and he hates it.
I feel like I'm doing that.
Emotions instead of people, tears instead of blood.
You know?

So typically typically set back and traced trailed and wasted on everything and nothing at all all at once but just once it could be worth something but it's not it won't it won't stop because I'm so stuck.

Bad habits and broken hearts are busted blood veins and bright lights in our eyes.
Can't find a way to get yourself out when you try.
Don't listen to a word I say,
don't believe a word you've heard.
As far as selfish goes, you're giving me a run for my money.
For sure.
But it's okay, we're only standing still.

How's that, I wrote that. It's a poem. Do you like it? Do you like it mommy? Can you read it, please? Tell me I'm good, tell me I'm okay, tell me you love me and I'm not just some fuck up like I always have been.

Hahaha. Dementia progressive.

And when people ask me what's wrong, it's so empty.
If they ask at all.
I love when people as what's wrong, and when I don't answer, they ask who did what to upset me.
But they don't realize it's a matter of what they didn't do or wouldn't do.
And I'm so scared of mirrors.
I won't touch them.
I don't look at them.
At least not directly.
They just stare back with empty eyes and sometimes they'll smile, but that's empty, too.
And I want to reach out and touch them and rearrange them.
Like a picasso. Just keep trying until you get something twisted and beautiful.
But I think I could try forever and never get something good enough.
And sometimes I want to scratch them out.
But I think I could do that until my nails chipped and cracked and then ripped off completely.
Do you ever feel like that?
It's better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality.
I wonder what you do when your senses are gone and your rationality is running low.
Because I mean, I never had much poise anyway.

Pills thrills chills Hollywood hills kills and spills.
I think these songs rhyme too much, get out of my head.
Selfish sickness will eat you alive, so fuck your mind and your looks and your life, I'm done.
For now, anyway.

I'll rip you to shreads, love.

I've got a confession;
you're just an obsession.

Moving on too quickly for myself,
dragging this out as if it will help.

Slipping, I wait.
I procrastinate.
Internal debate
on how long it should take
and if this is all fake
but I know I can't take
it. Again.
I just feel like I'm break
ing every time I'm wake
ing up from this dream;
I scream.

You're selfish, and I'm sorry.
You're mean and it matters,
Fuck you and your flattery.
Standing against but not standing a chance.
Like cold hands sneaking up but I'm wishing you would.
Thinking the worst thing about you I'm thinking I could.

"The anesthetic never set in, and I'm wondering where the apathy and urgency is."

Singing songs that could only catch the ear of the desperate.

Yes, it's been two whole fucking days since my last post.
It just took me like ten minutes to write that line, so hectic.
And then another five to write this one.
Writing blogs is always so slow for me.

So, Saturday night, I stayed with my sister. And most of Sunday, too.
Dancing to Gym Class Heroes and walking the dog. Fiber optic Christmas tree. Orange juice at 10PM. Up until 1 on meebo, wishing I had AIM. Sleep on the couch. Up at 7AM. Orange juice, oatmeal, and toast. Church (yeah, I know). Fell asleep in the church library, listening to TAI. Back home for burgers and Phase 10. Wendy's for dinner, then a concert and back home.
Maybe not the most interesting thing ever.

Laughing at other people's pain.
Does it make you feel good to not care who you hurt?
This is selfish of me, I know it.
And it's NOT your fault when someone falls for you.
But to laugh when you break their hearts, that's a little harsh, babe.
Just a little.
But you never made promises not to, did you?
You say 'don't blame me' like it matters who's to blame.
Sure, it's their faults but who the fuck are you to point that out?
Oh, that's right.
You're a LEGEND. Excuse me.

But hey, maybe that's what you want.
Maybe you want THIS to get under my skin.
Maybe you don't think things through.
But maybe you do.
I'm guessing it's one of two things.
Either a hit-or-miss or you know just how the smart ones will react.
And either way, you're all too clever, all too clever.

See, you can only imagine how much this hurts me.
Those times when you just want to slip your hands into handcuffs and put a plastic bag over your head. That's how I feel, like the metal digging into your bones and the plastic creeping into your lungs.
But I'm guessing life isn't all it's cracked up to be,
while scientists and psychologists wonder why your teenage years are the hardest.
Well I've got the answer right here,
the answer is
like most other questions.
Stop lying to your babies.
Stop stop lying.
Tooth fairy, Easter bunny, 'you'll grow into your looks, baby girl', 'you'll meet the one of your dreams', 'personality is all that counts', 'you won't be sick forever, it's only in your head'.
Life isn't about happiness, don't fucking tell them that.
Sex isn't some forbidden vow, why would you put that in their pretty little heads?
I just want to protect everyone.
They may be someone's baby...
But if they've ever been lied to, I want to tell them the truth about life so they can get a head start on being depressed about it.
This is why everything is so hard when you're just realizing how shitty life is.
Just don't give them misconceptions, let them know what life is all about so it doesn't overwhelm them.
You think they cried when you gave them the truth about Santa Claus... Wait until they see what else is up your sleeve.

These are just my thoughts.
They don't always work out.
But my mind is in a state of comatose.

Maybe I'm just like you, maybe everyone is.
But you think whatever you want, you're not as special as you pretend to be, I can't fool myself forever.

Maybe I'm less innocent than I look. Can you smell the sin on me or can you sense the shame?

I need to blog a lot today.
Because I'm watching myself change.
Going through old videos and chat logs... Stories I wrote in 2004 and pictures I took long before that...
And I hate it.
I don't know why I hate remembering who I was.
Maybe I feel like I'll want to go back.
Realize who I was is better than who I am and notice that I hate what I've become.
And I've become what I hate.
Things change so quick for me, I'm not sure if I can keep this up.

And then there's Marie.
What makes her special? I don't know.
She lied. Fake pictures, false stories, and I don't even know if Marie was her real name.
But then I lied too. Before I even knew she was lying.
Like, somehow, my subconscious picked up on her lies even when I couldn't do it knowingly.
And the shit I lied about was so ridiculous and out there, there's no way in hell she believed any of it.
So what makes her special? I don't know.
We met on January 15th, 2007.
We last spoke on June 10th, 2007.
That's 147 days that we knew each other. Roughly five months.
I've had friends for years. I've got new friends that treat me better than Marie ever did.
So what makes her special?
What makes her special?
It's been 181 days since we last spoke.
And in 38 days... A little over a month... It will be exactly one year since we met.

Misery loves company and sorrow is just all the rage.
So heat me up, keep me a little less cold.

I'll probably add onto this blog later. My head's too much of a mess for me to get it all out right now.

You and me and me and you until we've got nothing left.

Not getting any sleep tonight.

This is the kind of dirty that sticks no matter how much you scrub.
The kind of filth that clings just under your skin, immune to soap.
The stains that sink so far you can't see them, but know they're there.
A simple glossy grossness that never really goes away.
You just get used to it.
I'm hoping it doesn't take too long.

"Here you are, daylight star, made out of miracles. Perfection of your own, you alone, oh-so-incredible. Each atom sings to me, set me free from chains of the physical. Oh, free me."

This is how I feel about you.
Like you're too beautiful to even describe.
And when I say you, have no misconceptions - I'm not talking about one person. I'm talking about so many people I couldn't list them all if I wanted to.

Maybe you don't hold my hand because you're scared I'll pull away.
Maybe you don't walk so close because you're scared I'll move.
Maybe you don't tell me you love me because you're scared I'll just stare.
Maybe you're so hesitant because I'm so self-conscious.
You just don't realize, do you? You don't realize that no matter how close you walk, and no matter how you say you love me... If you just smile at me, I melt.
I don't think there's anything you could do that I could say no to.

Filth.

Filthy slut.
Attention-whore trash.
You'll do anything for attention.
Or just to feel loved.
Degradation.
Cry yourself to sleep.
And toughen up.

I still hope you feel better and please be happy. I love you. Xoxo.

Draw a heart on my chest and carve stars into my eyes.

Learned something significant about myself today.
I am a people pleaser.
Yes, that's right. As much of a bitch as I am, I'm very much a people pleaser.

I hide behind these words, and don't plan on coming out.

People pleaser.
Do you know what that means?
It means that it is not hard to go about getting what you want out of me.
It's ALL a matter of knowing what to say to do so.
No matter how little I want to do something...
No matter how uncomfortable I am with the situation...
No matter how much I say no...
There IS a way to get me to do ANYTHING.
But you have to know me to know what to say.

Open the windows to cool off, and heat pours in instead.

I don't know if this is a good thing or not.
But I suppose it's certainly a good thing to know about oneself.

And I believe I have so many private jokes with my friends that I think of randomly and laugh I'm going to be thought of as insane no matter where I go.
Oat truck. Parick and Pee. AIDS is so NOT cliché. Prong. Fork. AYYY BAYBAY. It's okay, he's just a cuddle fluff bunny. Is that a leg or... OH GOD. Full force in the mouth. Patrick rubbed his... I'm not even finishing that one.
And if you don't get any of these, then it's okay.
Because they don't make any sense anyway.

Today was a good day. If every day was like today, it would be good.
And that's saying something.
Why was today good?
I had fun. I learned something. I laughed. I talked to my friends. I listened to music. And I smiled.
It doesn't take much to keep me happy.
Even if 4chan is failure now.

SO SMILE FOR ME. Everyone. Because I'm happy today.

I can be your Bonnie, you'll be my Clyde. And we'll rob some banks and make out in a jail cell.

Ever had one of those nights where your head hits the pillow and you're suddenly wide awake?

Starting to realize that there's no use in nervousness.
If you're worried about making a fool of yourself, then don't think about it.
Because honestly, the people that matter don't care.
And the people that care don't matter.
Ever heard that saying?
Don't just save yourself, you could save us all.
But really, it's oh-so-true.
Suck up your pride, choke down your jealousy.
And just do it.
Because we all only live once and life is the worst thing to waste.
I've got a new philosophy that says live for yourself. Do what it takes to be happy, just don't hurt anyone else in the process.
I'm such a hypocrite.
A tired hypocrite.
An insomniac, just laying here reminiscing instead of sleeping.
A very very tired insomniac.
A walking oxymoron.
And I'm actually not walking anywhere, I'm just laying here wishing I had fallen asleep an hour ago when I first set out to go to sleep.

......... >=/

Bah. I'll just snuggle with Audrey and dream up silly stories and picture books until this music drags me into sleep.

I want someone provocative and talkative. (But it's so hard when you don't want me anymore.)

Always up or down, never down and out.
Unless I'm in the mood for it.

So, it seems I'm not as scared anymore.
Still doing a double-take when I pass a mirror and staring up at the attic door.
Wishing there wasn't so much stupidity in the world.
Just, seriously. I wish everyone that genuinely lacked common sense could be sent to an island somewhere.
But I've got things to look forward to tomorrow.
I look up and always smile.
That's the good part of having you sleeping next to me forever.
The bad part is the tears.

My writing is just going downhill lately and yes, 'fuck' does apply to everything.
Still memorizing that lullaby.
Loving some of these curves and thinking they're more a blessing than a curse.
Why am I so self-conscious even when I'm alone?

Busy looking for people to replace you.
Yes, you. You, reading this. I'm replacing you and if that worries you, you're who I'm talking about.
You drove me to it, it's not my fault.

This update was earlier than usual.
I'm still stalling until sleeptime.
But I'm going to sleep early tonight.

Her bone structure screams "Touch her, TOUCH HER."
I'm thinking of you and hoping you feel better.
And please be okay.
I love you. Xoxo.

Creepypasta. Don't scream.

5 in the morning.
Wasn't even going to update today because my mind is like rusty gears coated in blood so thick they can't move anymore.

Think I've scared myself in every way imaginable or plausible.
Don't know why, or what fascinates me.
It's like I've got an obsession with the twisted, it doesn't make any sense.

Your blankets are breathing.
Your feet aren't touching the ground.
That person in the mirror? That isn't you.
Don't close your eyes, that wasn't your imagination.
Through that keyhole is a silky blue, unmoving. That's not the lights. Someone's watching you.
Close your eyes and hold your hand out to shake hands. Someone might shake back.
The soft breathing you hear from your dog that is so comforting... Well, humans breathe too.
You stop and turn and no one's there.
Two doors across the hall - you can't enter one without putting your back to the other.
You may think she's dead, but she's just sleeping.
Don't close the curtains, they can see through those, too.
That attic smell isn't just dust and air.
That switch under your fridge does more than you think.
You may think I'm just playing games but it's true.

I just twist words for shock value, don't take a word for granted.
What you see out of the corner of your eye is what's really there - putting your focus on it makes it run and hide like bats when you shine a light on them.
We're all the same decaying organic matter.
You're not beautiful on the inside, and you're not unique.

I can't get to sleep. I'll stay up until my mom wakes up and then sleep in her room.
Xoxo.

These burns are mild, baby, not third degree. Don't cry for me.

Riyukko (2:20:15 AM): http://riyukko.blogspot.com/2007/12/bad-habits-and-broken-hearts.html

xroyalle (2:21:53 AM): ......

xroyalle (2:21:54 AM): <3

xroyalle (2:22:06 AM): I've been thinking of you almost constantly, if that means anything at all.

xroyalle (2:22:21 AM): Lots of random stuff makes me think about you.

Riyukko (2:22:09 AM): Yeah. Same.

xroyalle (2:22:36 AM): I'm sorry too, though.

Riyukko (2:22:19 AM): <3

xroyalle (2:22:41 AM): <3

Riyukko (2:22:24 AM): It's okay.

xroyalle (2:22:49 AM): Yeah, same.

xroyalle (2:23:02 AM): ...And now I'm grinning like an idiot for no fucking reason.

xroyalle (2:23:09 AM): I think I might be insane.

Riyukko (2:23:01 AM): Haha I've been crying for like three hours and now I'm laughing.

Riyukko (2:23:05 AM): I think we're both insane.

xroyalle (2:23:39 AM): We probably are, but that's okay, at least we're insane together, right?

See caption to picture 2B.

I've got the red carpet blues, baby.
I type fast and think faster.
But I'm pretty sure my heart moves the fastest when you're around.

I think sometimes I worry more than I probably should.
Think more than I probably should.
Dream more than I probably should.
Laugh more than I probably should.
And sleep less than I know I should.

Sick of all the genius and beauty in the world.
Sick of being too afraid.
And not cautious enough.
See title.

A poem I wrote for everyone and no one in particular with a few people in mind:
Nevermind it sucked anyway so I cut it out.
But here's something else.

I'll smile and you'll laugh.
Rest my chin on your shoulder, play your guitar.
I'll trip and you'll stop, stare hard at the clock.
Pull you down and lace our fingers.
You place kisses all over my neck.
Sticky sugar, cologne lingers.
But I'm just stalling, and I'm just stalling.
Trace these patterns all over my hips.
Never never try, never never win.
Trace these colors on bruised and cracked lips.
I'll pull you down, I'll pull you down.
So, we're back at your place.
And you're kicking off your shoes.
I'm blushing at your clues.
And you're hinting at this, too.
Like fire in your eyes and your heart and your soul.
And I'll rip it right out of you.
Rip it right out.
And you can trace these patterns all over my hips.
Never never try, never never win.
Trace these colors on bruised and cracked lips.
I'll pull you down, I'll pull you down.

I could totally be a song writer if I put some effort into it.
At least... I'll tell myself that.
But these burns are still mild, and the bruises will heal.
The stitches are sewn so the bloodflow is still.
Just wait until morning, save up all your rest.
'Cause friends are GOLDEN.
And I mean this with my last breath.

Xoxo.

Bad habits and broken hearts.

Social anxiety.
Credibility = zero.
When did I lose my sense of self?
I must have left my esteem at the door with my jacket and shoes.
I know you're non-confrontational, I am too.
Believe it or not.
And if neither of us confront the other, we're only standing still.
Is that okay with you?
Because I miss you and I kind of hate the idea of that.
I think it's a little fucked up that I'm sitting here missing you,
all the while wondering if you've even given me a second thought.
Have you?
I've been losing sleep over this.
You may mean more to me than I do to you,
but I've got a bad habit called 'getting attached'.
In case it's not so obvious.
I don't know what made me think I'd be able to bite my tongue and apologize.
Retrospect is a bitch.
Don't listen to a word I say,
because I know I couldn't do the same to you.
You're not replaceable.
I don't care what I said at the time.
Lost track of how many people I've gone through.
It's reminiscent of getting coal for Christmas.
I just miss you.
As far as selfish goes, I'm giving you a run for your money.
For sure.
I'm selfish, controlling, and I don't deserve what I've got.
But I'm trying and I might as well say it.
Suck up my pride and wipe away my tears because...

"the best way to make it through with hearts and wrists in tact is to realize that two out of three ain't bad"

...because I'm sorry.
And I apologize if I don't mean as much to you as you mean to me.
But I've got a bad habit called 'getting attached'.
And if neither of us confront the other, we're only standing still.
So tell me you forgive me?
Make me feel like it's okay again?
Or don't, but I'm hoping you do because there's too much space and silence without you.
And I'm feeling kind of pathetic and poetically pointless.
Take from this what you will.
Just know that I'm sorry and I miss you.
Xo.

What makes her better than me (aside from the obvious)?

No update tonight. Just random shit.
Oh wait, isn't it always?


I'll suck the life right out of you, baby.
Positive disintegration?
I'm so sick of being average or being second.
When is it going to stop being meaningless?
I'm glad Josh came back. I still miss Seth. And DeDe.
But mostly Seth.
And I'm so stubborn.
I hate it.
"What made you think that he couldn't find the door in the morning, when he found that bed so easily in the dark?"
Has a lot more meaning than it sounds like it does at first glance.
I don't deserve to be in a place like this all alone.
But life hands you shit sometimes.
Or nothing at all.
Too tired to say much.
I love you, I miss you, I'm thinking of you, I hope you're smiling or sleeping or both, get well soon, etc etc.
Xoxo.

It's 3AM and I might just be thinking of you (and slitting your throat).

Sonny Moore, go back to From First To Last.
You're shit without them, and they're shit without you.
Face it.

Great, you fuckers made me listen to Emily and now I'm sad.
Ohoho, fuck you if you think my blog is emo.
It's how I write, so take your labels and shove them up your ass.

Honestly so sick of labels. You classify everything so you can group it and make it convenient. That's fine, whatever - red yellow and blue are primary, purple green and orange are secondary. That's fucking fine. But people aren't colors. Emo goth and punk are bad prep jock and nerd aren't so much. No. Doesn't work that way, get off your ego and learn about someone.

You classify on hair and clothes and music but those don't define me.
My thoughts
my ideas
my mind
defines me.
GET ME RIGHT.

Talked to plenty of anon on AIM last night. Probably won't talk to most of them again and don't care either way.
Got a few new friends out of it I think.
And a couple of good discussions.

Times like this I can't figure out if I'm happy or sad.
Got lots of Christmas shopping done today. Actually, yesterday.
Going to sleep.
So exhausted.

I wish everything shitty in the world would just go away.
Be careful what you wish for?

I love you. I miss loving you. I miss Seth a lot.
Goodnight. Xoxo.

I'm the worst type of hypocrite. Shallow with low standards, low self-esteem, and a big ego. [Oh em gee another picture post?]

Always writing updates at 2AM lately.

What the hell... Josh, I miss you. Seth, I miss you. DeDe, I miss you. None of you read this anyway.
But I do need you all and yes I know I'm a bitch and don't deserve anyone. I'm sorry.
That's the best I can do.
Now back to being my typical self.

Drinking chocolate milk out of wine glasses and taking shots of fruit punch to make ourselves feel important.
Make me sweat like you always do.
Why is it so hot?
Finding new methods to my madness and dragging you along with me.
Do you love it?
I don't.
Maybe I do.
Maybe I shouldn't.
Maybe I should.

That's all I've got tonight.
I need to get to sleep anyway, going shopping for my brother's birthday tomorrow... Yes that means actually leaving the house.
Been memorizing the lullaby you wrote together so I can sing it to my niece when she comes. How twisted. Finding it hard to smile since you don't anymore.
Been trying to get into Cute Is What We Aim For, even though I really don't like them much.
Oh, and have some pictures.

Hush hush.

For you and hoping you feel better.

Accident picture but it's cool anyway.

Oh, and from last night. Sorry for the shitty quality, I didn't want to wake her with the lights. But it's moments like this that I live for.


Sleeptime when I'm done cleaning my room. Sleep well, car crash kids. I wish I wasn't missing Seth, Joshy, and De`Shara so much. Sigh. I love you all anyway even if you hate me. Really.
Everyone just smile for me, please.
Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo.

Hoping you don't notice that I still need you and hoping you're hoping the same.

Bored out of my mind.
Sorry I've been skipping updates. Haven't been feeling myself lately and can't write like myself anymore anyway.

Been practicing my 'I don't care' face in the mirror lately.
"Fuck you. You're replaceable. You never really mattered, I never really needed you. Don't think you're above this. Don't pretend you know when you know you don't. Leave. Get out. You wouldn't know a good thing if it came up and slit your throat."
Do I have it down yet?

Starting to get this first time feeling that maybe everyone gets first time feelings.
Maybe everyone feels this way and that's why there's so much homocide.
Abortion rape and necromantics.
No, there wasn't supposed to be a comma between abortion and rape.
If I had the option of seeing me slit my throat and sticking around for a few days, I'd take it.
Yes, yes I would.

I have no sense of time or direction.
Sick of waiting for new bands to make new music.
Drift drift drift.
So you think you know how they live in Tokyo?
Used to love that song.
My room is such a mess, things scattered all over the floor and I don't even have sheets on my bed.
So sick of labels and paranoia.
Not that the two are related, anyway.

I have lots of resentment built up.
Wonder why the word 'resentment' always reminds me of my mother.
And maybe it reminds me of you a little, too.
I wish you would smile at me again like you used to.
I want you to be okay and best wishes for you always.
Love the way no matter what you're feeling or how crazy you may be, I can press my lips to that spot next to your ear and just sing to you and you'll close your eyes and drift off.
Am I your comfort zone?
I want to be.
I want you to need me because no one else does. How pathetic is that?
Been singing Bulls In Brooklyn like it's my theme song to you. It kind of is.
Hate how we fight, can't we be happy?
Or is that too much to ask for?
Am I asking too many questions for your pretty head to keep up with?
Shut up, go to sleep don't make a sound keep quiet like I've got this barrel of gasoline ready for you, precious.
Sometimes I think I'm too sadistic. Maybe that's just me.
Xo.

Tell me you love me. Not once, but twice, and then keep your mouth shut.

Hate how I always know just what to say to hurt you.
And never know what to say to make you smile.
Hate how I'm just not scared as much anymore.
Can't stand that I associate him with your words now.
Or him. Or him. Or him. But never you.
Never never you.
Can't stand that I love you too much,
so you always make me cry.
But he always makes me smile.
He always always makes me smile.
A line from one of my favorite movies ever is...
"Never never say never unless you mean it enough to say it twice."
Or something like that.
And here's a new quote for you from the storage rooms and attic corners of my mind.
"Never never say you love someone unless you mean it enough to say it twice. And if you do, always always say it."
I love you I love you. I miss you I miss you. I need you and want you and hope you're happy. I hope you're happy. Please feel better. Please please feel better. Be okay for me. Be okay for you. Be okay. Don't cry. Don't cry, don't cry. And I won't either. I won't, I won't. Hold me. Hold me, hold me tight, hold me close. Make me smile, I'll make you smile. I'm going to sleep.
On second thought.
"Never never say ANYTHING unless you mean it enough to say it twice."
Because if you don't?
Then it doesn't really mean shit,
so keep your mouth shut.
I love your poetry. I love love your poetry.
I love love love you. Sleeptime. Xo.

I do what I can with a crumpled napkin and a busted pen. (Thnksgvng Pt.1)

I've got delusions and headaches, but they couldn't touch you.

These are the things that made it back in my pockets alongside a lighter, some loose money, a couple of receipts, and two CDs. I needed some way to get my head a little less full.

First one (We ended up having a first floor room):
"If you could see the things in my head, would you hate me?
Faster, faster.
This is why I hate writing on paper. I absolutely hate it.
We're in the car and the neon lights tell me it's 8:46.
The neon signs tell me we've got two hours of road in front of us before our heads meet hotel pillows.
Listening to new TAI songs, and thank god for them.
I miss you I miss you.
When we get there, I hope our room is on the second floor.
I'll lean over the balcony and close my eyes and watch me fall.
It will sting like hell.
But it won't be any worse than thinking of you.
I miss hearing your words, it's not like they hurt much anyway.
dance dance dance dance dance dance dance dance
I'm so afraid, I'm just stalling.
Xo."

Second one (I did end up getting the computer. Prepare for rant.):
"Things once so planned and cared for, now torn down and corrupted. I can only write what I feel, the rest is up to you. The computer (MY computer) is in Kayela's room. I doubt I'll have access to it. My room is her room. My things are now hers. I hate it, and they're calling Kristen and Jon "aunt and uncle" as if they know shit about us or our lives. Or care. They don't. Already, I want to get out. This town is not my home anymore. Nor are these walls. They are not my family. This is not my house, this is not my room, this is not my world. Hold me, please. I miss you. I can't wait until nighttime. Hold me. Xo."

Third one (Meant to add more, got distracted, etc.):
"When I said I'd be yours forever, I meant more like a curse, not like a lover."

I've never missed being suicidle as much as I did when I was there. I've never quite imagined I'd feel so disjointed.
When I came back and you seemed so excited and surprised, I swear my heart skipped a beat on the spot. But you'd never love me. What am I saying?
Thrashing in my own mind. I can't even get words out.
I can't even talk about Thanksgiving, it's all running together like I had a perfect picture painted out and the rain on the way back home pounded down so hard that it washed it all away and all that remains are melted mixed and soggy colors.
I'm glad to be home. I don't want to stay suicidle forever, but maybe just a little longer?
Patrick, stop making me smile so much. You're going to make my cheeks sore.
And everyone else, stop making me cry. You're going to make my eyes dry up.
I wish I was invisible as you make me feel. Maybe I am. Do you regret the things you said to make me feel like I was something special, or like I ever really mattered? Or did I ever really matter? Slow down, slow down.
Drip your poison words in my ears and watch the results as they seep into my brain and cause a seizure.
Haha, I love you so much I don't know what I'd do without you. Why am I thinking about you so much? Maybe I missed you more than I should have. I should quit while I'm ahead and breathe before I get hurt (by myself).
All in all I'm really just rambling.
I'm really so sore.
It was a good trip, but I wasn't impressed, and I definitely wasn't excited.
I never want to see them again.
But honestly it opened my eyes.
Change isn't such a bad thing. Because I'm here and not there. I miss things. But not most things. I hate things. But not some things.
I'm going to close my eyes and dream of him not you and hope you're jealous but know you're not.

XOXOXO.

When I said that I was falling apart, I meant that I was falling apart. (Thnksgvng Pt. 2)

So there you are, and here I am. I wish I could tear you apart.
Love me, or leave me, or rip me apart.
You never really deserved a choice.
I thought at the very least you'd leave me with the ability to still cry over you. I guess I didn't deserve that much.
But if you died in your sleep, I promise I'd still be everything I promised that I'd be.

I could've updated when I got there, or about 24 hours ago when I got back. I thought I owed it to myself not to.
Words can hardly describe it, but pictures say more than my mind can create.

The trip there and back was shitty and uneventful.
Lots of road. Lots of trees. Lots of signs. Lots of sleeping to avoid all the road and trees and signs.

Lots of bathroom rest stops and boredom.

Then we got there and the best part was seeing everyone.
My dad.

My step-niece, Gillian.

My step-nephew, Izaiah.

And if I could have only room for one in my heart, this cat would be on the top of the list. I love him forever, and I miss him more than you know. Tommy. ♥.




THIS is truefuckinglove. Xoxo.

Leaving!

Leaving for Arkansas, staying in a hotel tonight and getting there tomorrow for lunch.
Maybe I'll have some memories being where I was ten years ago, who knows.
Xoxo.

We don't fight fair.

Wear me like a locket around your throat, I'll weigh you down, I'll watch you choke.

Leaving in an hour.
Think there's something wrong with me, seriously, and don't know what it is.
This time tomorrow, we'll be there and I couldn't be less enthused.
Haven't had any real sleep in ages. I miss it.
I miss you.
I miss living.
Might update again before I leave, don't expect another one until Thanksgiving or the day after.


Xo.

Sleep, let me sleep. Stitch my eyelids to my cheeks and keep my breathing slow.

Again I'm too tired for a real update.
Haven't slept for days.
Think I'm losing a bit of myself.
So I'll just quote you and then go to sleep.

"From day one I talked about getting out, but not forgetting about how all my worst fears were letting out. He said "Why put a new address on the same old loneliness?" When breathing just passes the time until we all just get old and die. Now talking's just a waste of breath, and living's just a waste of death. And why put a new address on the same old loneliness? And this is you and me and me and you until we've got nothing left."

I miss you. Going to sleep. I'll dream of you and car crashes and happiness.

Tomorrow, I'm leaving for Arkansas. Won't be home until Sunday. I'll still try to update, no promises. No regrets. Xoxo.

Not a real post.

Too tired to update.
Too suicIDLE to care.
Going to sleep now.
Sleep well, car crash kids.
Maybe the world will come around before morning.
♥. Xo.

Suicide dreams (what I'd do sleeping in the bathtub of this motel.)

Can't listen to your voice anymore.
Eyes swell with tears, heart beats a little harder.
You pull on my heartstrings like it's your last chance to make it matter.
I drown in these tears and choke on these emotions.
Haven't been feeling myself lately, but what does that have to do with anything?
Wonder what being myself feels like anymore.
Things are so amazing when I see them through my eyes.
Wish for just once I could give you this. Give you me. Let you see and hear you through my eyes and ears. Feel what you make me feel. Breathe your own essence and let it intoxicate you like spraypaint and vodka.
Couldn't describe it in words if I tried.
Chest constricting, eyes water, nose tingles. A shiver runs down your spine and your heart skips a beat. You want it all to cave in on you right then and there with no regrets.
That's the best I can do, I'm sorry I'm not better with words.
Once upon a time, I tripped and fell and I haven't been the same since.
Trade these emotions in for a clean slate.
Can't figure you out, can't figure me out.
Can't figure the things you do to me into my schedule. Take a raincheck, babe.
I'm standing on the ledge of this balcony, on the wrong side of the railing.
Telling you not to come closer and I wish my legs didn't tremble at your touch.
Waiting, wanting, wishing for you to surprise me and pull me back into sanity.
I guess it's up to me, you just keep pushing me harder and harder.
Give me that melting smile of yours one more time.
Make me think it's all okay.
Then take my hands off this railing and give me a shove for all it's worth.
Hold your breath and listen for a scream or a splash.

Xoxo.

SO SICK OF THIS SHIT.

STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT

TAKETAKETAKETAKETAKETAKEITAWAY.
Just gonna cry myself to sleep, it's the only comfort I have anymore.
Rip out my emotions, slap some sense into me.
Slash some memories into my flesh.
Fuck it.

Patron saint of liars and fakes.

Liar, liar, soul on fire.
So I'm not really going to sleep, I guess. The words in my head are way too loud.

I think that phrase should be changed from 'Curiosity killed the cat.' to 'Curiosity will kill us all.' It's ironic, though, because in the end, lack of curiosity will be our demise.
You're a bull, my heart is just a china shop.
I analyze you so much, so you can hurt me that much more.
But I've never played fair.

My words are all lyrics or memes and there's nothing you can do about it.
People say we've changed.
I think they're right.
But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Sometimes I wish my life was a horror movie.
And then I remember the things that go on in our heads.
And I realize we'd be screwed either way.
You make my world explode.
And he makes my heart swell and burst.
Exploring, destroying.
I can't keep doing this.
Waste my time.
Waste my life.
Are you through with me?
Never never never.

SLEEPTIME.

Disjointed thoughts and recycled phrases.

Sometimes I feel like all my friends are the same person.
Been crying a lot today.
It's interesting how the only sense I have that is ever numbed by repetitious exposure is that of disgust.
Every dot com's refreshing for a journal update.
You'll hear things repeated here that won't make sense to you, be it lyrics or phrases - they all mean I'm doing something specific and you won't understand.

"You've won the role, you've played your part, you've been cordially invited. But I'm not impressed, and I'm definitely not excited. 'Cause the film runs a shallow budget, and the writer's subject script isn't any deeper.
So dive right in."

So addicted to this song.
I'm sure I'm not the first.
I'm never the first of anything.
Getting to bed on time tonight - not much of an update anyway.
Funny how everything I ever did to inspire you was a fuck up.
Just gonna lay here and stare at the ceiling for a while and wonder why darkness scares me.
I have talents, I have abilities and strengths.
They enable me to get places in life.
Just not the places I want to be, is all.
Don't know if I'd rather be with you or be you. Just to know you would be enough.
Something so corrupt is so able to keep a hold on me and make me feel.
I fear it. I love it. I am it.
Turn it up, play a little faster.
I never mean a word of this, I hope you know. Learn not to take a thing I say seriously and save yourself some heartbreak, because I regret every brilliant thing I ever said.
I miss you. When will you be back?
My rituals changed for once and I hated it.
Once you complain it changes, and you realize you prefer the past.
I should stop tying (edit: was that a typo of 'trying' or 'typing'? maybe I should stop doing both) at 2AM.
Going to sleep.

Car crash kids... You know the drill.
And you... You make me smile. And so do all the things you've done right, I love you so fucking much, never change, never never change.
Yours truly, letting your words make me cry myself to sleep - or at least trying, because sorrow is all the rage.
Goodnight. Xo.

2☆R

The only map I'll ever need to find where my heart lies.

2☆R. i♥U.

Let's play this game called... (when you catch fire)

My thought process is nothing more than lyrics and twists. Big words and recycled phrases (and the bittersweet taste of other boys on your lips). Don't explain, I know exactly what you're going to say.

Ravaged. Torn. Ripped. Hurt. Broken. Slit. Sliced. Diced. Dead. Destroyed. Empty. Lonely. One and only. Tripped. Fell. Slipped. Given. Give in. Buy in. Reach in. Pull out. Pull up. Push down. Fall down. Fuck up. Cash in. Up front. Give more. Care less. Careless. Carefree. Caring. For me. From you. This time. Wishing. Wish for. Wish with. Wish time. Nighttime. Stars shine. Moon sleeps. Cloud nine. Take me. Break me. Bend me. Fake me. Love me. Hurt me. Touch me. Burn me. Leave me. Teach me. Learn me. Desert me. Dessert me. Discern me. Dictate me. Narrate me. Sing me. Breathe me. Live me. Kill me. Lifeless. Life less. Live less. Die more. Death wish. Ego trip. Egotistic. Slut. Bitch. Call me names. Give me shame. Hit me hard. Make me pay. Pay up. Give up. Sun's up. Get up. Live some. Die some. Laugh some. Cry some. Work hard. Play harder. Play games. New games. Old games. Friend games. End games. Work time. In line. Show up. Stack up. Line up. Number yourself. Statistic life. Sadistic life. Masochistic life. Masochistic wife. Beat her. Fuck her. Take her. Rape her. Kill her. Leave her. Forget her. Fuck her. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck up. Up chuck. Alcohol poisoning. Food poisoning. Ink poisoning. Mind poisoning. Mind fuck. Mind rape. Mind life. Mid life. Midlife. Crisis. Full life. No life. Fake life. Control life. Steer life. Steal life. My life. Your life. His life. Their lives. Our life. Our world. Our love. One love. True love. First love. Last love. This love. That love. In love. Lost love. Lust love. Love lust. Love less. Loveless. Love me. Kiss me. Hold me. Keep me. Want me. Need me. Watch me. Shatter me. Laugh at me. Yell at me. Shut me up. Give me a reason. End me this season. Winter, summer, autumn, spring. Hop. Drop. Flop. Shop. Shoes. Cruise. Bruise. Lose. Take it. Fake it. Break it. Shake it. Relationship trauma. Romantic breakdown. End it. Send it. Spend it. Sell it. Buy it. Buy me. Use me. Try me. Break me. Fix me. Save me. Rave me. Mix me. Trick me. Ice me. Burn me. Melt me. Heat me up. Hold me close. Fuck me hard. Treat me right. Love me tonight. Leave me tomorrow. Break me just right. Watch me fade. Pick me up. Try to fix me. Then give up.

Because no car crash is too hard for us.
We've been through it all and eaten the stars right out of the sky together.
I've let your heartbeat swallow me whole, and you've crushed me with your voice.
Never again.
Never never again.
Word (dis)association isn't really my thing.
Word games. Such a shame. So lame. Start a flame.
Kill it with fire and bury the memory.
His smile is your rope, wrap it tight around your throat.

Some more (for you):
Rock out. Get out. Get in. Give up. Live up. Expectations. Cancellations. Punctuation. Continuation. Rotation. Duration. Dilation. Filtration. Feels so good. Hurts so hard. Give too much. Get to rush. Give up on me. Sell me out. Forget my words. I won't forget yours. Don't leave me. I need you. Never stop being such a mess.

And one for Josh:
Correct me. Collect me. Select me. Direct me. Perceive me. Receive me. Believe me. Deceive me. Tell me you love me. Tell me I'm wrong. Teach me the truth. Learn me a lie. Live in the past. Deceiving. Dreaming. Digging. Distance. Dive. Drive. Drop. Die.

Car crash babies. Car crash kids. Car crash hearts. Truefuckinglove.
When I die, I want to be burned.
Sprinkle my ashes into the wind.
And let me FLY.
For all those times I've missed out.
Let me fly for just once.

Sleeptime. I won't cry for you because I know you wouldn't want me to. I love you. Xoxox.

Unconfident, incompitent.

Tell me I'm alright.
Make me feel like I matter for two seconds.
I think you're fixing me. What's wrong with you?

"So bury me, your memory.
His smile's your rope,
so wrap it tight around your throat."

My thoughts only make sense to me when you explain them.
Doesn't that mean something?
How you do this to me, painful ecstasy of realization.
Don't know if I love you or hate you.
Honestly I don't care as long as you're here.
Play games in my head to distract me from you.
So sick of watching what genius is.
And wondering why genius is so normal in extraordinary ways.
Love how you analyze everything.
With anyone else it would make me mad but you do it so right.
Learn and teach me at the same time.
About you and me and the world.
Confuse me like a toddler.
Make me feel a few IQ points dumber.
Then explain it to me and make me learn it.
I want you. Maybe only because you remind me of the parts I'm missing.
You think you don't get me.
I think you may be the only person who does.

A shade of rage in words and poetry.

Random thoughts for the day.

My mouth tastes like charred flesh and blood and sickness.
Wish I could wake up at four in the afternoon.
Saturdays are the best for all the wrong reasons.
And, honey, this life isn't big enough for the both of us, so find your own.
I like where we are. Here.
Our lips can brush, our cheeks will blush.
I fell in love with you so hard, you're the one I want.
Don't keep skeletons in your closet, you never know when they'll get out.
No good could ever come of this.
Your name is cheap, you look like shhh- you're just a whore.
Everything changes at the speed of light and somehow it's never fast enough for you.
So sick of this lack of confidence in everything.
I'm going to cuddle my cat.
Might go to sleep early tonight.
What a twisted world.
All puzzles have a solution.
All riddles have an answer.
All jokes have a punchline.
Don't you wish?

I know that today, right now, I can be free in this moment.
I know that today, right now, I can feel.
I can breathe. I can live. I can think. I can cry. I can laugh.
And I swear, I'm trying.

I don't love you like I loved you yesterday.
Would you have the guts to say...
Get out while you can.
I'm tapping my toes and wringing my hands and biting my lip, and wishing I could have you.
So sick of fighting.
Can't stand this helpless feeling.

------ A poem for you, you heartless bitch.
twist my words and wring my throat
i wish on stars and wreck old cars
im poison with no antidote
you sting like needles, cut like knives
take your own sweet babies lives
but you get what you give and dont give a fuck
you hope ill still love you with some luck
you break tiny hearts and wring tiny throats
dont forget to hide it all and make it rushed
you dont just break hearts, but spirits and trust
and you do this all without ever trying to do a thing but keep on lying
its okay though because youll need me
its funny now to you, you see
because you tell me im all yours
you think it's a game, this imaginary world
but ive got news, this world you see...
this world youve created for you and me
you tell me i should learn your rules
im sorry youre so mean and cruel
you laugh at me like im some joke and wish id choke
but - news for you - its YOU that broke
im the one that tries so hard to make you love me
wrecking cars and wishing stars - its never hurt like this
and one day ill get out and leave, youll realize in reality
youll realize then that you need me
and not vice versa, like you wish
so learn the rules of MY world, bitch.

-------
Living with impossible people.
It's like watching your soul being torn apart when you try.
And tearing theirs apart if you don't.
If only I didn't need you...

I swear, you're all the same.
Second chances should be a thing of the past.
People never change.
Sorry this one is a rant more than anything.
Can't stand the world much longer.
Stupidity and hate taking place of intellect and trust.
Don't know who to blame.
Can't point fingers right now anyway.

Leaving for Arkansas in four days.
Thanksgiving with the relatives and early Christmas presents.
Seeing my cat and tons of pictures.
I'll keep you all posted when I can.
Going to sleep soon.

Sleep well, car crash hearts. Don't break on me just yet, tough it out a few more decades.
Xoxoxo.

Missing old friends and old habits.

Harder. Rape my childhood like I want it.
Faster. Shatter everything I grew up on.
Rougher. Knock the kid out of me.

Spammm it into my head. Life is a waste.
And you can't stand it.
I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it.
Do you regret everything that you said to ever make me feel like I was something special, like I ever really mattered? Or did I ever really matter...? But you're not saying you're not breaking some hearts tonight. I'll take back everything I ever said, I never meant a word of it. I never did.

So sick of the same old thing.
But I guess it's better knowing the world hasn't stopped just yet.
The same routines in the same old scene - it's the same damn thing.
Missing old friends and old habits, and old familiarities.

But I'm still not worrying, I swear.

Goodnight, all you car crash kids. Make me proud and keep your hearts and wrists in tact for one more night so you can hold me as I wake up and whisper that you love me while I'm in that far-away place just between sleep and waking, and my eyes are freshly opened so you know that no matter what I dreamt of, you're the only thing on my mind, at least for a couple of seconds...

Xoxo.

Thoughts thrown together like a kindergarten collage.

These thoughts I think and think I should keep.
And I don't, because I forget.
Then dig them up from the back of my brain.
Throw them together like a kindergarten collage.
Sloppy gluestick messes and mismatched colors.
Words strewn together on a whim.
Signed and dated to be hung up next to the macaroni artwork and poorly drawn portraits of family and friends.
The kind where the smiles are big, the sun is shining, and the crayon is smeared with the oreo crumbs you had for snack.

I always write better when I'm exhausted, let's give this a try.

Fingers numbed only when they shouldn't be.
Like writing an important letter or giving a hug.
He doesn't need a name, he just needs to be there.
So it doesn't really matter if he's you or not, because it might change by next Thursday.
Lost my train of thought and now the train is headed towards a concrete wall.
Come crashing down all over me and drown me in your genius.
Wish I could see ghosts the way she does and watch her sleep.

Don't worry, don't worry, you tell me again and again.
I won't, I won't, I don't have to pretend.
Our next president will be better but who's to say they won't be the next fuck-up?
Everyone has flaws but I'd still go with Ron Paul.
I swear I won't worry. Not about you, at least.
I'm going to sleep and I'm so glad you're one less thing keeping my eyes open.
I wish I could say you were one less thing on my mind.
But I hate lying to myself.
So do it for me.

Sleep well, sweet prince.
Sleep well, skeleton king.
Sleep well, queen of havoc.
Sleep well, princess of death.
And sleep well, all you car crash kids.
Sleep well, because you may not be royalty, but you mean the world to me, so isn't that what counts?

I love you. Xo.

Ups and downs, upside down.

Up or down?
Ups and downs...
Upside down.
I'm not impressed, and I'm definitely not excited.
Hollywood hills and suburban thrills, and you - who are you kidding?
I'm not sayin' that I'm not breakin' some hearts tonight.
Alright, alright, slow down...
[noise: The Academy Is... - Slow Down]

"honey is for bees, silly bear
besides theres jelly beans everywhere
its not what it seems, in the land of dreams
dont worry your head just go to sleep
doesnt matter how you feel
lifes just a ferris wheel
its always up and down, dont make a sound
when you wake up the world will come around
its just sweet weather and peacock feathers
in the morning itll all be better
dont worry your head just go to sleep."

This random kid makes me smile.
William Beckett is adorable, he's going to sing me to sleep and I love himmm.

You tell me not to worry and I won't. I'm going to sleep and thinking of you.
Xoxox.

Lies, lies, in everybody's eyes.

I never want to see you unhappy.
I never want to see you again.

Hold myself tight to keep out the cold.
And wish you were here to heat me up.
Second chances never never mattered.
Opinions change, but people won't.
So, so, glad I have you, I can't even think of words. I have tears in my eyes just thinking about you and how much I needed you.
My head was troubled and in such knots before you.
And I swear to god, you're so comforting. The way you're a mess is fixing me.
Except not.
Because I'm still broken.

You tell me not to worry my head.
And sleep.

Okay. I trust you.

Xo.

There's a light on in Chicago, and I know I should be home.

'Cause all the colors of the street signs, they remind me of the pickup truck out in front of your neighbor's.

I listened to this album today while I took a bath.
And I wondered about that line.
Is the pickup truck multi-colored, or are you just looking at one type of street sign?

I should really be sleeping.
But I'm not.
As usual.
As long as someone IMs me and wakes me up at a decent hour tomorrow, I suppose it doesn't really matter.
Not that anything really matters.
Because nothing really matters anymore.
My cereal has bugs in it, and I can't be bothered to stop eating it.
I'm not that hungry, it's just that nothing really matters.

Honey, I'm gonna make it out alive.
So kiss me goodbye.
Baby, I would kiss you hello and goodbye and anything in between.
But I'd rather kiss you goodnight.
Wonder why I'm so obsessed with sleep.
I feel like I can never get enough of it.
And yet, it's such a waste.
Maybe my fascination stems from something deeper, like the thought of sleep.
It's like death. Just shorter and not quite as painful.
Be back later.
I hope.

Xo.

If this ain't love, then I don't know what love is.

Silly girl, stop falling in love.

......Please?

Silly boys, stop making her fall in love.

But you know she likes it. She wants it. Give it to her rough.

----

22nd post, huzzah.

If you wanted honesty, that's all you had to say.
I'm not okay.

Looking into the past hurts.
But only because I know I can't look into the future.
Fix me. Fix me. Fix me. Fix me. Fix me.
The only words I ever need to say.

Xoxoxo.

I'm just a caterpillar, but my cocoon is broken.

Watching myself change.
It's like a backwards moth-esque cocoon cycle.
Innocent caterpillar.
You watch it spend days and careful planning preparing a cocoon.
Then weeks reconstructing itself inside.
Emergence is the disappointment to this story.
My life works backwards.
You wait so long to meet that beautiful butterfly.
And each time, another form of larvae emerges instead.
To grow into a new caterpillar and restart the process.
Will I ever meet my butterfly?

My body is eroding.
My mind is eroding.
My life is burning beneath me.
My being is slipping into the unknown.

After going through so many lives, I can't help but wonder what's next. I know I can't control or choose it, but I want to know. I wonder if I'll do this my entire life.

Your smile makes me smile.

Commence camwhoring.

(Sometimes) I think being me is better than being you could ever be.

Goodnight moon.
Goodnight stars.
Goodnight you.
Goodnight me.

I wasn't joking when I said your smile makes me smile.
In fact, it may be the only thing that does anymore.
I honestly think you and him need each other.
Maybe almost as much as I need both of you.

My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I got out of bed at all. The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can't see at all. Even if I could, it'll all be gray. I put your picture on my wall. It reminds me that it's not so bad. It's not so bad.

Just remember, this smile is for you
and all the other car crash kids I've fallen in love with.

Forever.
And ever.

I'm going to sleep, finally.
Xo.

I can see the venom in your eyes.

So, kiss me goodbye. I can see the venom in your eyes.
I wish for this hour I could be him instead of myself.
I wish for just once I could be you and see what it's like.
I love you.
I miss you.

Xo.

Talking in circles and living with squares.

Fuck talking in circles and lyrics today, I'm making a real blog.
Got an idea from one of the FOBR boardies today.
So I did what she's doing and I put two posterboards up on my wall to write stuff on. She said she's writing inspirational phrases on hers.
On mine, I might just write lyrics or thoughts, I'm not sure.
Seth left like ten minutes ago to go to the Fall Out Boy concert. And I hope he has fun.
But honestly I couldn't be more fucking jealous.
I'm so happy he's going to go though.
But.
I just wish I could see them.
It's so funny, though - every concert I go to, I think "Well, this is no different than watching live footage on YouTube. It just costs money, gets my feet stepped on, and I can't do it in my pajamas."
But I suppose I could go to a concert in my pajamas...
I still go to concerts either way, and I don't know why. I'm broke.
My cat is burrowing under my blankets like a little rodent. It's creepy. And cute.
My wall doesn't look quite so bare anymore...
And about that posterboard.
The only thing on it so far is 'Hold your head high, heavy heart.'
More to come, I suppose.
I may watch a movie today. Not quite sure.
I may watch four movies today. It's just one of those days, I guess.
My cat just sneezed from under my blankets and I worry about her suffocating.
I guess she'll be okay.
I hate just writing. Normal. Like this.
I hope Seth has fun tonight. But I'm sure he will.
I want him to come back and tell me about some Pete flirting with Patrick type stuff.
Because I'm such a Peterick fangirl.
Even though they don't do that much anymore.
I do believe my cat has either suffocated or fallen asleep.
But I'm too lazy to check.
I guess I should go now, and see what movies the television can offer today. And perhaps hope the kitchen has some nourishment for me.
Think I'll stick to talking in circles and lyrics from now on.

Xoxo.