Apathy is not happening
Sliced my hand open today. Witnessed a breakdown. Wanted to melt into the walls. Almost wanna have kids just so I won't be lonely when my husband dies.
Want someone to invent a dream machine please. Loved kicking her ass a couple nights ago. One-two-DOWN! =)
I keep remembering when I opened the door to the past, or I guess it was opened for me. Still. Can't shake that drop-gut feeling. Again, dream machine please.
So your brother dies, and he punctuates the story. Or maybe the person is really dead and they realize it at the end, but again, ambiguously. OR---my online convos with mr. Big. That sounds better. Tormented. Could I use actual convos? Make him out to be better or worse than he really is? Worse. Worse for sure. He couldn't really get much worse, though...
Sometimes I think I'd like singe life, then I remember I pretty much can live the single life while on this side of the mountains (no, not talking cheating, just late nights with friends and no phone). I'd never survive w/o Ian =) Inspiration!
I want to bake cookies with you:
Dead eyes that freeze you, yet warming.
Numbness that is so intense, it awakens me.
Hurt, pain, and yearning, wrapped into one look.
Only two people fill this vast space of such possibility, it burns the brain.
Somewhere hidden is better judgment, not allowed to step forward: taped mouth, banging on the inside of a closet.
Suddenly, a burst through wooden double doors, broken glass flying and dicing through the air.
Curled into each other, all while three feet apart.
All I want is a gun to murder the thought, and be able to just walk away.
Wedding weekend is almost upon us, and I couldn't be more excited. I basically have wedding fever. I really need a job, any job, so that the day won't be too far off. hm, guess money can buy you happiness.
Want someone to invent a dream machine please. Loved kicking her ass a couple nights ago. One-two-DOWN! =)
I keep remembering when I opened the door to the past, or I guess it was opened for me. Still. Can't shake that drop-gut feeling. Again, dream machine please.
So your brother dies, and he punctuates the story. Or maybe the person is really dead and they realize it at the end, but again, ambiguously. OR---my online convos with mr. Big. That sounds better. Tormented. Could I use actual convos? Make him out to be better or worse than he really is? Worse. Worse for sure. He couldn't really get much worse, though...
Sometimes I think I'd like singe life, then I remember I pretty much can live the single life while on this side of the mountains (no, not talking cheating, just late nights with friends and no phone). I'd never survive w/o Ian =) Inspiration!
I want to bake cookies with you:
Dead eyes that freeze you, yet warming.
Numbness that is so intense, it awakens me.
Hurt, pain, and yearning, wrapped into one look.
Only two people fill this vast space of such possibility, it burns the brain.
Somewhere hidden is better judgment, not allowed to step forward: taped mouth, banging on the inside of a closet.
Suddenly, a burst through wooden double doors, broken glass flying and dicing through the air.
Curled into each other, all while three feet apart.
All I want is a gun to murder the thought, and be able to just walk away.
Wedding weekend is almost upon us, and I couldn't be more excited. I basically have wedding fever. I really need a job, any job, so that the day won't be too far off. hm, guess money can buy you happiness.