This subject was lyrics but I changed it cause that's just fucking gay.
I think I might vent or just write... or something. It'll give Pat something to laugh at.
For a nice while music was something that spoke to me. Iono, I guess it speaks to everyone but you can fuck off cause I'm talking and not you.
Music used to make me so sad. Make me confused. It made me happy for awhile. Now it's sad again. We all can muster why I suppose...
I don't know where I am anymore.
I don't want you pity. I'm not sure I want much of your sympathy. It's okay. I'm okay. I guess.
Whenever I sit and think I tell myself that I'm okay. That I can't cry anymore. Well that's just a fucking lie. Haha. But I'm okay with it.
My life is teetering into the shit hole but I'm digging it out. Through mounds of shit. But I'm okay with it. I'm not waiving the white flag anymore. I'm not rolling over and dying anymore. I'm not giving up anymore.
Life is far too short to give everything up.
I tell myself this over and over.
None of that shit anymore. Fuck all of it.
I don't feel beautiful anymore and I'm okay with it. Cause I know there'll be someone else that will make me feel that again. I come from a fuckface school where everyone is so superficial but gorgeous and I'm okay with it. I'm not telling myself that personality counts cause we all know that that's halfway a fucking lie.
I've got art ideas again. Maybe I'm just better off lonely. It seems to suit me. Haha.
Life has taught me a very valid lesson. But there's still that little piece in the back of my mind: hope.
I try to put it out but it's something I'm just not ready to let go of. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I'm okay with that.
Smoking has definitely been a huge help. As awful and as bad as it is. It just mellows me out and stops the stressed out man from dancing in my head. He's such a bitch. Fuck him.
I'm glad I don't drink though. Cause at my state of mind that could be a slippery, slippery slope.
Yay substance addiction. But ciggy-what-whats are okay.
I guess the moral of my story is I'm not really okay but I'm okay with that; so I am okay.
Okay?
For a nice while music was something that spoke to me. Iono, I guess it speaks to everyone but you can fuck off cause I'm talking and not you.
Music used to make me so sad. Make me confused. It made me happy for awhile. Now it's sad again. We all can muster why I suppose...
I don't know where I am anymore.
I don't want you pity. I'm not sure I want much of your sympathy. It's okay. I'm okay. I guess.
Whenever I sit and think I tell myself that I'm okay. That I can't cry anymore. Well that's just a fucking lie. Haha. But I'm okay with it.
My life is teetering into the shit hole but I'm digging it out. Through mounds of shit. But I'm okay with it. I'm not waiving the white flag anymore. I'm not rolling over and dying anymore. I'm not giving up anymore.
Life is far too short to give everything up.
I tell myself this over and over.
None of that shit anymore. Fuck all of it.
I don't feel beautiful anymore and I'm okay with it. Cause I know there'll be someone else that will make me feel that again. I come from a fuckface school where everyone is so superficial but gorgeous and I'm okay with it. I'm not telling myself that personality counts cause we all know that that's halfway a fucking lie.
I've got art ideas again. Maybe I'm just better off lonely. It seems to suit me. Haha.
Life has taught me a very valid lesson. But there's still that little piece in the back of my mind: hope.
I try to put it out but it's something I'm just not ready to let go of. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I'm okay with that.
Smoking has definitely been a huge help. As awful and as bad as it is. It just mellows me out and stops the stressed out man from dancing in my head. He's such a bitch. Fuck him.
I'm glad I don't drink though. Cause at my state of mind that could be a slippery, slippery slope.
Yay substance addiction. But ciggy-what-whats are okay.
I guess the moral of my story is I'm not really okay but I'm okay with that; so I am okay.
Okay?