(no subject)
i am going to see the misfits play in cambridge with brad. this is my final entry because to many other people i know got livejournals. i am going back to writing my journal by hand. i cant read my writing though and my hand aches when i write for to long. but at least i can draw pictures in a written journal. i am not with steve any more and i dont mind. i am taking smack. i met tom and conan the cambridge punks, i like them and conan said he'd do my tattoos. i want two guns tattooed on my hips, and the hearts and stars on my hands, like brody dalles, to cover up my ugly cigarette burns. and i think i'll get a red rose somewhere to. i kissed lorien and drank her blood, and brads and they drank mine. i also kissed brads girlfriend but now i am with brad and we had sex and it was realy nice.
i am my own parasite i dont need a host to live we feed off of each other we can share our endorphins.
i realy like lorien but i dont think she likes me, probably because of what happened with brad. everything happened at once and i thought about killing myself again but i didnt. i liked being with lorien, when we went to watch those realy bad bands play in town and stole some drink and weed and sat with tom and that, i liked it. i got realy drunk on smirnoff ice at her house. my dad is making me take vitamins.
i am doll parts, bad skin, dull heart.
brad makes money busking in cambridge and i love sitting mext to him busking. we're doing heroin together. he plays nirvana a lot and his voice is sort of like kurts and he has long blonde hair kind of like his and light blue eyes. and hes like me because he doesnt eat. he says we're like kurt and courtney. and hes also like me because his dad drinks. he showed me the marks on his shoulder where he used to hurt himself, and the marks from when he used to take speed. and he made me promise to never try it. he reminds me of johnny except he is more like me and its kind of scary. he always complains about his stomach. mine hurts all the time to but i never say anything. somehow, he always asks me what about yours is yours hurting even though i never told him about it.
i miss zara quite a lot.
i miss the comfort in being sad.
now, you're in a laundry room.
i will keep reading aimees journal. she is pretty, inside and out.
i will keep reading annas journal, she is fascinating.
i will keep reading zaras journal, she is the alternative to alternative.
i saw roya in town and told her we were homeless and she gave us money. i told that to some other people from my old school to, they gave us money to. realy we wanted it for cigarettes and bus fare. i saw dom two times, the first time me and laurie were walking home with the punk guys to get drunk and stoned. i saw him again the next day when i was in town with brad, and he laughed and called me a tart because i was wearing the same clothes. a homeless guy gave me and brad money but we found him later and gave him it back, and some more, because we felt bad. always give cigarettes to homeless people, in case you ever become one.
eating makes me feel sick and it hurts. i hate it.
i will get a gun and have my way with it.
i miss the comfort in being sad.
i am my own parasite i dont need a host to live we feed off of each other we can share our endorphins.
i realy like lorien but i dont think she likes me, probably because of what happened with brad. everything happened at once and i thought about killing myself again but i didnt. i liked being with lorien, when we went to watch those realy bad bands play in town and stole some drink and weed and sat with tom and that, i liked it. i got realy drunk on smirnoff ice at her house. my dad is making me take vitamins.
i am doll parts, bad skin, dull heart.
brad makes money busking in cambridge and i love sitting mext to him busking. we're doing heroin together. he plays nirvana a lot and his voice is sort of like kurts and he has long blonde hair kind of like his and light blue eyes. and hes like me because he doesnt eat. he says we're like kurt and courtney. and hes also like me because his dad drinks. he showed me the marks on his shoulder where he used to hurt himself, and the marks from when he used to take speed. and he made me promise to never try it. he reminds me of johnny except he is more like me and its kind of scary. he always complains about his stomach. mine hurts all the time to but i never say anything. somehow, he always asks me what about yours is yours hurting even though i never told him about it.
i miss zara quite a lot.
i miss the comfort in being sad.
now, you're in a laundry room.
i will keep reading aimees journal. she is pretty, inside and out.
i will keep reading annas journal, she is fascinating.
i will keep reading zaras journal, she is the alternative to alternative.
i saw roya in town and told her we were homeless and she gave us money. i told that to some other people from my old school to, they gave us money to. realy we wanted it for cigarettes and bus fare. i saw dom two times, the first time me and laurie were walking home with the punk guys to get drunk and stoned. i saw him again the next day when i was in town with brad, and he laughed and called me a tart because i was wearing the same clothes. a homeless guy gave me and brad money but we found him later and gave him it back, and some more, because we felt bad. always give cigarettes to homeless people, in case you ever become one.
eating makes me feel sick and it hurts. i hate it.
i will get a gun and have my way with it.
i miss the comfort in being sad.