If you lie, you don't deserve to have friends.
I was hoping not to resort to ranting on my newly renovated livejournal...
Where did today go? There was supposed to be some sort of party for me tonight or something, but I still haven't heard anything about it.
I bet it's happening without me. That would be funny. I'm running out of time with my freedom, but everyone seems to be too busy with their own lives to even really talk to me. I feel horrible for wishing these people would stop having lives so they can sit and talk, but I can't help but feel some alienation.
I just want to take off and drive.
Go to Port Huron and stare at the Bluewater Bridge for hours.
Maybe freedom will be good for me.
What have I ever done wrong? I mean, what have I done to hurt anyone? So far as I know, I haven't been on the giving end of the pain.
Ever the literary scholar, I have to cross my fingers and hope that maybe reality does have a sense of poetic justice.
What am I doing? Waiting for someone who's never going to come. I never suspected that I would find myself being so foolish. Just when you think you're a pure cynic, that stupid hopeless romantic emerges and screws with your notion of the world.
I have officially given up on maxims, aphorisms, adages, clichés, proverbs, and the like.
What good do they do? What enlightening universal truth does something provide if it's tired and hackneyed? All those sayings are trite, banal wastes of breath that inspire nothing but a mildly disdainful roll of the eyes. If one more person tells me that "everything will work out all right soon enough" I am going to ask them if they attended Hogwarts and obtained certification for prognostication. Don't tell me how my life is going to be. That's not for you to determine.
Don't look to me in the midst of your crisis unless you want me to tell you what I really think. I'm not going to be a greeting card for you. I am not an insincere bullshit generator. If you're fucked, then I'll tell you so. I've never been one to sugar-coat things, but of late it seems that my taste for little white lies and half-assed dicta has severely declined.
It's been a never-ending flow of pain. It's always something. Maybe I'll go take a bubble bath and give myself a manicure. That sounds nice right about now.
Nobody approach me with offerings of "I hope you feel better soon" and "Things will get easier when you're away at college."
I will e-bite your head off.
However, feel free to casually converse with me. ^^
Where did today go? There was supposed to be some sort of party for me tonight or something, but I still haven't heard anything about it.
I bet it's happening without me. That would be funny. I'm running out of time with my freedom, but everyone seems to be too busy with their own lives to even really talk to me. I feel horrible for wishing these people would stop having lives so they can sit and talk, but I can't help but feel some alienation.
I just want to take off and drive.
Go to Port Huron and stare at the Bluewater Bridge for hours.
Maybe freedom will be good for me.
What have I ever done wrong? I mean, what have I done to hurt anyone? So far as I know, I haven't been on the giving end of the pain.
Ever the literary scholar, I have to cross my fingers and hope that maybe reality does have a sense of poetic justice.
What am I doing? Waiting for someone who's never going to come. I never suspected that I would find myself being so foolish. Just when you think you're a pure cynic, that stupid hopeless romantic emerges and screws with your notion of the world.
I have officially given up on maxims, aphorisms, adages, clichés, proverbs, and the like.
What good do they do? What enlightening universal truth does something provide if it's tired and hackneyed? All those sayings are trite, banal wastes of breath that inspire nothing but a mildly disdainful roll of the eyes. If one more person tells me that "everything will work out all right soon enough" I am going to ask them if they attended Hogwarts and obtained certification for prognostication. Don't tell me how my life is going to be. That's not for you to determine.
Don't look to me in the midst of your crisis unless you want me to tell you what I really think. I'm not going to be a greeting card for you. I am not an insincere bullshit generator. If you're fucked, then I'll tell you so. I've never been one to sugar-coat things, but of late it seems that my taste for little white lies and half-assed dicta has severely declined.
It's been a never-ending flow of pain. It's always something. Maybe I'll go take a bubble bath and give myself a manicure. That sounds nice right about now.
Nobody approach me with offerings of "I hope you feel better soon" and "Things will get easier when you're away at college."
I will e-bite your head off.
However, feel free to casually converse with me. ^^