March 2012
Sometimes, I wonder if you think about it as much as I do. Sometimes, I wonder if you think about it at all.
“Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to...”
– Winston S. Churchill (via larmoyante)
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I really don’t suppose I had the right to. It would have been asking a lot of you and I understand that your other friends matter more to you. I’m just an emotional fuck today. I am sorry.
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There is a lot of porn on my dash. The hickey on my boob is entirely gone. T isn’t coming over today so she won’t be offering her services. I suppose I could find somebody to fuck at convention. LOL
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so you said that if I write you a story you’ll love me forever? it’s not quite 5-ever but I’ll give it a go :P
The window’s open and my skin is struck by the freezing air. I lay in bed, too anxious to sleep as usual, and by chance I see the moon, framed in a thin crack between my roof and the neighbours house, its light just making it here. The straight beam of light illuminating the shape...
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I can’t sleep.
I have a feeling you won’t be there tomorrow and I’ll be sitting there by myself reminded that expectations are terrible things and friendship only last a couple hours.
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Nothing feels better than washing yourself off with cold water after a warm shower. [[MORE]]I really don’t want to call tonight. And for that, I hate myself more than anything else today.
You amuse me. And, I suppose, for that matter, no, I am not.
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Trying to listen to someone else’s troubles when you can barely make sense of your own mind is not a particularly good idea.
I am really tired of forced politeness. I don’t need a courtesy invitation, darling. Be candid.
Sometimes I forget I have followers. I need a private blog. I apologize for all the emotional fuckery and bihourly read mores filled with pointless information.
Roll away your stone and I’ll roll away mine.
[[MORE]]Dear thoughts,
Go away.
There, said it. Now get over yourself.
[[MORE]]And we are back to old habits. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? More scars, more blood stained clothes. Who gives a damn?
I’ve never actually cut myself at a restaurant before, or any public place for that matter. Today was a first.
I basically sat for more than an hour at Veggie Grill, trying to drink tea. I didn’t even touch the fries I ordered. Ha. I was...
