Complications
I have had enough of everyone.
All you people out there, well, fuck. Fuck.
Today I worked 6AM-12PM then spent some time kicking back listening to Dragonland at home and then Laura wanted to hang out so... we did. I sincerely like Laura, but good lord, one more sentence with the words "Tyler" and "sex" in them and I will not hesitate to vomit all over you because my feelings have been bottled up inside of my gut for months and years and years and months. So I do not care how long you have waited or how you thought it wouldn't be decent to do anything at MY HOUSE, MY HOUSE OF ALL FUCKING PLACES (oh - the irony, I could cry) and thank you for that. But, either way, I do not want to hear about it and you think after telling you why exactly I broke up with Danny you would have the good grace not to bring THAT sort of thing up.
People, I swear. I swear.
My heart has been sliced up enough lately. And I still expect James to stroll into the theatre one of these nights and sit down with a Fanta and a large popcorn and his plaid shorts and V for Vendetta shirt...
And it all hurts. Layer upon layer upon layer. The icing on the cake OF DEATH.
I have one sock off so it is more difficult to concentrate on my anger and depression. It's oddly effective.
So, tonight, one of the most helpless nights I have ever experienced (which is saying something), is going to be a wonderful night. Hah.
I will never forget waking up Sunday morning and thinking I was dead. I honestly thought I was dead and/or dreaming of heaven. I opened my eyes and there he was, shirtless, staring over the lake, the wind blowing through his hair, the sky and the water the same color, being no up or down. And that is all I saw. And then I realized I was awake and alive, and I closed my eyes again and said, "Fuck."
Because tomorrow will be like today will be like yesterday. An endless torrent of emotion, a rollercoaster of consciousness, and a hallucination of what was and what could have been.
It stormed today. I smiled, and I laughed. And I don't understand.
No one can ever really understand anything. What we know for sure we really don't know for sure. The world is flat. There is a God. We exist.
It's all the fucking same.
"Don't touch me."
It's no good. I think I understand (maybe) why James killed himself. It's the same reason I'm in tears right now. It's a stupid reason, no doubt - but a reason nonetheless. Seeing someone you love tremendously love someone else instead.
It's very stupid, and very human. I dislike being human.
Anyway, as always, the answer to this is throwing a large, blunt object at someone's head.
All you people out there, well, fuck. Fuck.
Today I worked 6AM-12PM then spent some time kicking back listening to Dragonland at home and then Laura wanted to hang out so... we did. I sincerely like Laura, but good lord, one more sentence with the words "Tyler" and "sex" in them and I will not hesitate to vomit all over you because my feelings have been bottled up inside of my gut for months and years and years and months. So I do not care how long you have waited or how you thought it wouldn't be decent to do anything at MY HOUSE, MY HOUSE OF ALL FUCKING PLACES (oh - the irony, I could cry) and thank you for that. But, either way, I do not want to hear about it and you think after telling you why exactly I broke up with Danny you would have the good grace not to bring THAT sort of thing up.
People, I swear. I swear.
My heart has been sliced up enough lately. And I still expect James to stroll into the theatre one of these nights and sit down with a Fanta and a large popcorn and his plaid shorts and V for Vendetta shirt...
And it all hurts. Layer upon layer upon layer. The icing on the cake OF DEATH.
I have one sock off so it is more difficult to concentrate on my anger and depression. It's oddly effective.
So, tonight, one of the most helpless nights I have ever experienced (which is saying something), is going to be a wonderful night. Hah.
I will never forget waking up Sunday morning and thinking I was dead. I honestly thought I was dead and/or dreaming of heaven. I opened my eyes and there he was, shirtless, staring over the lake, the wind blowing through his hair, the sky and the water the same color, being no up or down. And that is all I saw. And then I realized I was awake and alive, and I closed my eyes again and said, "Fuck."
Because tomorrow will be like today will be like yesterday. An endless torrent of emotion, a rollercoaster of consciousness, and a hallucination of what was and what could have been.
It stormed today. I smiled, and I laughed. And I don't understand.
No one can ever really understand anything. What we know for sure we really don't know for sure. The world is flat. There is a God. We exist.
It's all the fucking same.
"Don't touch me."
It's no good. I think I understand (maybe) why James killed himself. It's the same reason I'm in tears right now. It's a stupid reason, no doubt - but a reason nonetheless. Seeing someone you love tremendously love someone else instead.
It's very stupid, and very human. I dislike being human.
Anyway, as always, the answer to this is throwing a large, blunt object at someone's head.