This place is always such a mess, sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn.
I don't think I could be more disgusted with myself if... No, really, I can't think of a reason I would be more disgusted with myself. Sometimes I think that's what I do best: hate me. I guess we all have our talents.
What kills me is I'm always wanting more. I can't be happy. One thing I can work so hard for, seems like it's worth everything in the world, and then... it's empty. There's always something better, something more, something I'm missing out on.
Sometimes it makes me laugh that the times I have loved the hardest were with the complete assholes. And when I could have had my forever, I messed it up.
And now I'm so completely... pathetic. There's no other word for it. Maybe a whole week isn't a good idea. Will I stay away? No. The fact is, when it's dark and I'm there, I can pretend.
And why does it all have to be so confusing anyway?
This whole entry wants to make me puke.
To use Amber's words, "I hate everythingy."
What kills me is I'm always wanting more. I can't be happy. One thing I can work so hard for, seems like it's worth everything in the world, and then... it's empty. There's always something better, something more, something I'm missing out on.
Sometimes it makes me laugh that the times I have loved the hardest were with the complete assholes. And when I could have had my forever, I messed it up.
And now I'm so completely... pathetic. There's no other word for it. Maybe a whole week isn't a good idea. Will I stay away? No. The fact is, when it's dark and I'm there, I can pretend.
And why does it all have to be so confusing anyway?
This whole entry wants to make me puke.
To use Amber's words, "I hate everythingy."