I have everything going for me, yet somehow, things still aren't right
I have a good job. Not a GREAT job, but I enjoy it, and I earn enough money to pay rent and eat with the same paycheck.
I have what passes for a healthy, relatively mature relationship between two immature and confused people. But that's probably the best I'll ever manage to do. Because at least I can fuck other people. We enjoy each others' company as friends. And we can have frank, open communication. As long as I don't get stuck in the past, we're good, but fuckinggoddammit is that hard.
I have some kind of deficiency that does not allow me to drink alcohol,(so I save BUCKETS of money) yet here I am. Peppermint schnapps are fucking delicious. they make me cold and warm at the same time, and god knows I love that contradictory goth shit.
I am painfully aware of my mortality, and the mortality of those I love, yet I cannot seem to make enough time for them. Note to self: bring over tattoo ideas to show mom.
I remember you and I both hate you and miss you. then I remember how you threw everything I wanted in my face and I hate you again. I can, on an intellectual level, remember why I cared for you, and cared about your problems. Now I think that both you and they are fucking pathetic. Maybe my feelings will change again. The first time I felt so torn I tried not to care. Tried to lie to myself to feel better. But it made me feel worse. No. Right now, i can't fucking stand to be in the same room as you.
So I hate you. I need something simple, and black and white. And that's it. Get out of my head. I want to be done with you. But I can't write you out just yet, can I? was she convenient, or did you do it on purpose? fuck you.
I love the rest of you. And I miss you, and I with I wasn't so selfish and self absorbed and could find some way to make time for you. but I seem to be frantic and untrusting and unraveling.
I am writing the same old post all over again. Some of you, I haven't even had contact with for over a year, unless you've been in my bookstore. I'm sorry. I miss you. (Darrell and Taja come to mind)
I'm alone tonight, since my beloved and fabulously gay roommate is at his other job. But this shouldn't bother me. i think I've taken to time to go inside my head again, which always puts me in a mood. I'm trying hard not to call somebody. I need to be alone.
Am I allowed to have crushes and talk about them? I should ask.
tonight is a night for vice. Where are those cigarettes?
I have what passes for a healthy, relatively mature relationship between two immature and confused people. But that's probably the best I'll ever manage to do. Because at least I can fuck other people. We enjoy each others' company as friends. And we can have frank, open communication. As long as I don't get stuck in the past, we're good, but fuckinggoddammit is that hard.
I have some kind of deficiency that does not allow me to drink alcohol,(so I save BUCKETS of money) yet here I am. Peppermint schnapps are fucking delicious. they make me cold and warm at the same time, and god knows I love that contradictory goth shit.
I am painfully aware of my mortality, and the mortality of those I love, yet I cannot seem to make enough time for them. Note to self: bring over tattoo ideas to show mom.
I remember you and I both hate you and miss you. then I remember how you threw everything I wanted in my face and I hate you again. I can, on an intellectual level, remember why I cared for you, and cared about your problems. Now I think that both you and they are fucking pathetic. Maybe my feelings will change again. The first time I felt so torn I tried not to care. Tried to lie to myself to feel better. But it made me feel worse. No. Right now, i can't fucking stand to be in the same room as you.
So I hate you. I need something simple, and black and white. And that's it. Get out of my head. I want to be done with you. But I can't write you out just yet, can I? was she convenient, or did you do it on purpose? fuck you.
I love the rest of you. And I miss you, and I with I wasn't so selfish and self absorbed and could find some way to make time for you. but I seem to be frantic and untrusting and unraveling.
I am writing the same old post all over again. Some of you, I haven't even had contact with for over a year, unless you've been in my bookstore. I'm sorry. I miss you. (Darrell and Taja come to mind)
I'm alone tonight, since my beloved and fabulously gay roommate is at his other job. But this shouldn't bother me. i think I've taken to time to go inside my head again, which always puts me in a mood. I'm trying hard not to call somebody. I need to be alone.
Am I allowed to have crushes and talk about them? I should ask.
tonight is a night for vice. Where are those cigarettes?