| Call me a name. |
[05 Nov 2009|11:16pm] |
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My birthday was on October 30th, so I'm nineteen now. Time is crazy, it goes by so fast, I'm not ready. I miss the old me and how I used to be. Who I am now is just not the same...
Dedication in my bones, even if I am just the blackened space between the stars. Feeling blessed to even be in the sky. My level is black and blue. You couldn't even touch my hatered. Every emotion has blended and merged into one. I'm feeling nothing yet I'm so hurt right now, always lacking an explination for you. No heads want to process and no eyes want to read about how sad you are these days, it's just another eye roller on my part and yours. No one has fucking sympathy, ever. I've got all this tension built up inside that makes me want to cry, but for some reason I just can't. It's just been too long, it feels like I forgot how. This is turning into nothing. Normally I don't post useless information like this, but I don't have anything else to turn to, everything hurts. A year ago I was so much happier.
Someone please pick up my heart, I've never felt so low and nothing at all at the same time.
But it's all because of me, so I'll tell myself to suck it up like I always do.
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| Every recent post is private. |
[27 Jul 2009|11:10pm] |
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Only because my head would decay itself if I let anyone else read what goes on inside it.
Fear outruns every decision that I come up with. I gotta stand up. There's been no art, no photographs, no designing, no writing, no expression of any kind because of fear. I want to slit every letter. Or laugh at every situation because I'm not as cold hearted as I sound in this journal, I promise.
Trying so hard to stay awake. Like a bubble floating through fire. These eyes reflect abstract structure designs. Putting monochromatic puzzle pieces together so forcefully. Every pale cloud powers the faith I have within. Inspiration leaking from every crack in my skin. Glass bottles will fill with every idea. Aching heads melt away good thoughts and it always leads to starless nights and sleeping at doorways. Every plan backfired, so I'm here with myself. A quiet waste of time, the passage of these years. Every broken line confuses the reader's eye. But this doesn't need to make sense unless you make it. So get dissecting. Gone into sugar shock from staring into my desires for too long. I lit a candle. A chromed explosion of silver melted wax against my blank walls. Now I have my own stars burned inside my head. Scrape off the newly encrusted diamonds and save them for a better day. Scanning news articles against my eyes like my psychology tests. How I miss them. A fiery explosion of man made electrical objects against plaster buildings and glass windows. Which will melt first... the buildings or mans trust in reality. Cut away all the unwanted text and form a future. That's all I'm hearing.
My heart keeps beating so slowly but with such purpose, it's trying hard. I don't think I'm healthy.
Hatreds are the cinders of affection.
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| Snow day, finally. |
[02 Mar 2009|02:30pm] |
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Doubtful decisions detesting human cells, it's equally mutual. The chemistry is shivering, unsure, and failing. The yellow liquid perfume tasted on matching wrists makes smiles clench white teeth. Months keep disintegrating as brains spin into chaos. A chaos felt through nervous systems and its affecting paralysis. A lapse in the pattern of my sanity, quiet eyes vs eyes full of essence. It's an impluse to puncture all desires. Jealousy is my best friend, perfection is my enemy.
I like a chase, a challenge, not a present at my doorstep, and only one guy ever got that in his head. I want this to work, but the glass grows thicker every day and I can no longer see through it to the thinning future.
I wish I saw what other people see. My eyes are closed all the time.
whatever: "All you think about is yourself. So what do you have to say now?"
me: "All I think about is myself."
I told him he would change his mind.
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| I don't know if I would rather the semester be over or not. |
[22 Jan 2009|11:19pm] |
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I don't feel anything from anybody. I'm too exhausted from all my classes. I need more time to write a research paper, speech, book report, and take numerous quizzes and tests, and read all these chapters. What have I gotten myself into this time?
And while I was riding a horse today it bucked and reared and acted a mess, but I never fell off. It's going to take a lot more than that to bring me down now. I'm too determined to succeed.
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| Blank slates always end up cracking in the end. |
[19 Jan 2009|10:30pm] |
I'm skipping talent instead of rocks. Take the risk or fail at everything else. Too young or too old, you can't manipulate the numbers. Work work work and end up behind. The world only seems right 65 mph down the blurred highway. My eyes crack black, burned out from reading about the fallen society. Inboxes full in different accounts, you know, when it just explodes from hatred. Letters addressed to me with a letter to someone else inside, your mistake is my realizing how deaf I've become to the world. Or maybe how deaf you've become. Rely on the tomorrows that never come. Smile, smile, smile, because you're thinking of the uncured problems of the future. But we're never like we used to be. I hope your vocal cords bleed the next time you yell at me. Maybe I'm just bitter, but the world only seems right 70 mph down the blurred highway. I never begged to be the fuel of your disaster dreams. I never begged to be anything like a rip in your heart or a chip in your brain... But you prayed to be mine. Just trample through a wasteland of my unplayed voicemails. Baby, you have the poison to disintegrate the structure of this city. But it doesn't matter because the world only seems right 75 mph down the blurred highway. I am a mess, pin your ears to my walls but you'll hear nothing. Sleep sleep sleep, brains need preparation to string lies. Baby, just go, because the world only seems right 80 mph down the blurred highway... 85 mph down the blurred highway... 90 mph... 95... Collision through the thought process, dead on. But it's okay because the world only seems right when you're not in it at all.
But in my mind everything is already dead.
So the world must feel right... right?
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| I'm jealous of every girl that catches your eye. I'm jealous of every girl. |
[12 Jan 2009|06:53pm] |
Sleeping on pillows stitched with stress. I have brain cells that are tired of processing unrealistic thoughts. 18 never felt so useless. The hearts don't match, but I'll still be chasing what I'll never catch. Disappoint yourself so nobody else can destroy you, because when you're racing against sunset shadows, you don't want to have to worry about anything but yourself. I'm only a problem if you pay attention to me. So don't. I see a fire lit face, crisp but blury. Don't you want to feel your bones up against my bones? But I will never touch your skin again.
Not ready for the adjustments, always better off in the first semesters. I'll just follow the veins of the world as they're brancing off in invisible directions. I just hope my trip is cut short. And every time I start to think crazy, something happens to put me back in my place... Like two hours ago when the light bulb shattered above my head, but the glass couldn't break me. And I was fine.
I hate falling for actors, I can't have him.
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| Stupid. |
[10 Jan 2009|08:04pm] |
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I hate how this page looks completely different from when I view it when I am logged out. It looks so much worse than it does when I'm logged in.
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| Denial. |
[09 Jan 2009|10:23pm] |
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I matched every description that the book listed, but I still don't believe it.
How can I go into a profession to treat people who suffer from the same disorder that I do?
But it's all a lie, that can't be me.
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| I haven't really been doing much... |
[08 Jan 2009|11:26pm] |
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Still obsessed with obsessions, still clawing through thoughts.
I don't like writing anymore, I can't ever think of anything. Everything is wasted.
Tree limbs and lung branches in reverse; your eyes would shine, but I'm getting out, just pounding pavement.
Fill this up just to empty it out, but no one can ever tell the difference.
I mold your brain, don't deny it, I know you've wasted alcohol because of what I can trigger in you...
So I'm stealing my suitcase of undefeated lies, and I'm leaving.
This was never worth the time or the broken spine (we're breaking backs).
I've got sleek envisions, dreaming daily disasters.
I love our papercut silence. The way it stings.
It would be a miracle if I could just feel the way I should. The way I could.
It would be a miracle if I could ever see a face, and not dissect everything. I don't (just) want to cause you harm.
It's been a couple years, and I still don't want to admit that you changed me for the best.
But my problem is that I don't care about anything, yet I care too much at the same time.
And if you can find a cure for that impossibility, your my new prescription doctor.
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rainyxday2's journal