(no subject)
My stomach has decided that I am the devil and is trying to expel itself from me. GAHHH it sucks.
I added something onto this that I wrote a while ago.
Sweet talker your voice
is so smooth.
But your words cut
like the blades of knives.
So slice my heart open
again with lies of 'I love you,'
and I swear I'll cherish every gash.
This is the revised edition:
Sweet talker your voice
is so smooth.
But your words cut
like the blades of knives.
So slice my heart open
again with lies of 'I love you,'
and I swear I'll cherish every gash.
I'll feel the rush in my chest
as the dam breaks and the
liquid compassion pours.
I'll ignore the warning bells, and
pretend I don't feel the burn of
a hypnotic homocide.
So there it is.
I called Jenny the other day. Derek, Dan and I were at Art Van and I was bored out of my mind, so I went through my phone looking for someone to talk to. So I called Jen. She was sick though so we didn't really talk long. She sounded out of it. I haven't talked to Tori in a while either. I don't really need to but, since I gave Jen a call I should probably call Tori too.
I got a C+ on Spear's paper. I betcha I'll never get higher than that. Just watch.
Still dislike work. Yup.
Our kitchen is still a mess. We're JUST now putting the cabinets in, and then we gotta do the floor and the counter tops. Another month of living out of boxes. It's been like this since fucking august. I want a kitchen. I want a stove. I want real food, not a shit load of fast food, which is all I've been eating lately.
gah. okay. bye.
I added something onto this that I wrote a while ago.
Sweet talker your voice
is so smooth.
But your words cut
like the blades of knives.
So slice my heart open
again with lies of 'I love you,'
and I swear I'll cherish every gash.
This is the revised edition:
Sweet talker your voice
is so smooth.
But your words cut
like the blades of knives.
So slice my heart open
again with lies of 'I love you,'
and I swear I'll cherish every gash.
I'll feel the rush in my chest
as the dam breaks and the
liquid compassion pours.
I'll ignore the warning bells, and
pretend I don't feel the burn of
a hypnotic homocide.
So there it is.
I called Jenny the other day. Derek, Dan and I were at Art Van and I was bored out of my mind, so I went through my phone looking for someone to talk to. So I called Jen. She was sick though so we didn't really talk long. She sounded out of it. I haven't talked to Tori in a while either. I don't really need to but, since I gave Jen a call I should probably call Tori too.
I got a C+ on Spear's paper. I betcha I'll never get higher than that. Just watch.
Still dislike work. Yup.
Our kitchen is still a mess. We're JUST now putting the cabinets in, and then we gotta do the floor and the counter tops. Another month of living out of boxes. It's been like this since fucking august. I want a kitchen. I want a stove. I want real food, not a shit load of fast food, which is all I've been eating lately.
gah. okay. bye.