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[22 Jan 2008|09:34pm] |
Coked-out again. Fuck. You like her, don't you? Is it because she reminds you of me or just because she'll blow you on the weekends? I don't remember you every being loyal. I've breathed in enough of your smoke to give cancer to at least eight lungs. But I'm fighting it. This malady of reverie, as Oscar Wilde would say, but then you aren't very well versed in classic literature are you? You do know the entire book of Kama Sutra front to back, but ask you to quote Hemingway would be pulling teeth. At this point I'm frantically searching for glass that I can break or anything sharp enough to break skin. I can never escape for long enough before the hands of memory grip my throat again. Choking on my words and there are so many things I want to say. You are losing me. Every moment you spend thinking of her I slip further away. Bleeding again. Fuck. It's going to stain. I am a self-loathing masochist, the most dangerous of them all. I should have warned you three years ago when you found me in a crowded room. I thought you were a creep, you know. I'm stumbling into a dark and cold place and you won't ever know about it.
I am in love with you.
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| Dear anonymous viewer |
[22 Jan 2008|10:37am] |
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I am here and I am alive. I have created this as an outlet for the thoughts I have locked up in cages in the dark corners of my brain. If you are reading this, it means you have stumbled upon a gold mine. Don't underestimate the value of the thoughts of the mentally unstable. Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Take yourself to the place you feel most uncomfortable. The place where your palms sweat and your breath quickens and your thoughts race. The world around you is hazy and cold. You are not the main character in your story. You are the antagonist and your end will be tragic and fatal. This is where I live. Come find me.
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