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[08 Mar 2007|12:55am] |
YES I'M HUMAN! we make mistakes. or do 'we'?
fuck, all of these fucked up thoughts.. FUCK ALL OF THESE FUCKED UP THOUGHTS!
fuck is such a strong word. i'm going to use it more often. more often then i already do. my grandmother told me 'potty mouths are for floozies'. but i guess now that 'everyone' thinks i'm a slut..
fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck.
"the friends who mind don't matter, and the friends who matter don't mind."
my vision is blurry, as my brain is so overcome with thinking, that my capacity to see is second priority to my capacity to think.
fuck, all of these fucked up thoughts.. FUCK ALL OF THESE FUCKED UP THOUGHTS!
coming home from work today, i couldn't help but think 'alright, i'm heading into the fire' i know i'm going to be burned. i already have been. it was my own fault. first degree. second degree. third degree. fuck it. someone just murder me! first degree. second degree. no takers? i'll have to take it into my own hands. though, i'm bound to fuck it up.. botch my own suicide.. how embarrassing. then i have to face the third degree. from you. from her. from him. all of them asking me, why?
..
because there was nothing good on T.V.
fuck, all of these fucked up thoughts.. FUCK ALL OF THESE FUCKED UP THOUGHTS!
the best offence is a good defense. hum.. i started writing a word and i forget what it was. humble? human? humbug? bah FUCKING humbug, Mr. Scrooge. i'll scrooge you alright. and then i'll scrooge you again.
the more questions asked, the more frustrating it becomes. what's it? because i don't know the fucking answers. what's it? and it's like a huge fucking test that i keep failing. WHAT'S IT? and the more i try, the more i fail, the more questions i ask, the more frustrating it becomes. WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?
that's it.
fuck, these fucked up thoughts.. FUCK THESE FUCKED UP THOUGHTS!
i'm bound to step on some toes. i'm bound to say things i don't mean. i'm bound to fail, once in a while. i'm bound to.. i'm bound. constricted. resricted.
i just put on a hat, to make sure my brains don't spill out of the top of my head. the hat's not going to help when my body explodes. the hat's not going to help when my.. wait, what's left when my body is gone? my soul? ha. apparently i don't have one.
fuck, all of these fucked up thoughts.. FUCK ALL OF THESE FUCKED UP THOUGHTS!
what the fuck? everyone's willing to pass the buck. blatantly lying. trying to defuse this awkward prying.
if you love something you should let it go, if it comes back, it's yours to keep. hm, so this is how it works?
i loved myself. i let myself go. i haven't found myself yet, nor have i come back from where ever it is i went. so i guess i'm not mine. not yet.
i hurt my feelings. i have no feelings.
fuck, all of these fucked up thoughts.. FUCK ALL OF THESE FUCKED UP THOUGHTS.
who am i? now after reading this.. tell me, am i a fucking human?
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[08 Mar 2007|02:46am] |
i'm sitting here thinking, i need to write. i'm on a roll. and then i get down to it, and i have writers block. i have so much to say, yet nothing at all.
who cares really, what i have to say? who cares really, what's on my mind? who cares? really. really. re-he-heallllly.
hello, how are you doing today? i hope i find you're feeling healthy. i'm so glad our paths crossed this time today. on our way into the night.
i light a smoke to provoke some thought. but just as i inhale the toxicity, the thought seems to disappear just as quickly as i exhale. then i think "fuck, i'm trying too hard."
story of my fucking life. done. over. next.
my mother doesn't return my calls. my father doesn't talk to me. i don't remember the last time i got a hug a didn't ask for. a kiss i didn't expect. or an 'i love you' without a 'too' at the end. --now my thoughts stop.
and it hits me like a brick to the face.. how can anyone find me when i'm all over the place?
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