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.