No paranoia...moral...favors for favors....fond but not in love...concerned but powerless....
Radiohead is making me ponder.
"Still kisses with saliva....charm...fitter....happier....more productive....a pig....in a cage....on antibiotics"
The human race frightens me. It makes me lose all hope in the future. There is an add in one of my "Teen Vouge" magazines full of aneorexic models I am sadly jealous of, where it says "THE FUTURE! A musical to believe in."
I cut it out and am sending it to Rose with a homemade caption of "Lie"
I love those damn quotation marks.
I really want to write like this song. I want to make people think. I want to make people realise. I am not some thirteen year old girl obsessed with Abercrombie and Fitch and dancing like I know what I am doing. And being cool to guys.
I am myself, and I want to WRITE that so people know. I want to say it with words on paper. No mouths included.
And this "blog" is one of those projects. Those writing projects.I like to write instead of telling my family stuff. And I love them, I really do. But I am not going to physically TELL them things.I'm willing to face the fact that I'm chicken shit. ^^;; I will have you read it. Which plays a big part in the recieving of the link.
I'm so damn sick of the word moody.
Don't feel sorry for me either, because as much as I- and I'm completely honest- would love you to, i really don't deserve pity.
I love you all. I will always love you all. When you see the word suicide, don't go into red alert and think I am going to kill myself. It's a word. Not a promise, contract, or anything that bounds me to killing myself. It's just something I think about sometimes.
That sounds horrible.^^;;
So, I'm being honest guys. Up until now, I was doing fine. But now I'm wondering where to go. What to address.
So ever since I saw the sign "Leave 'I don't know' in the waiting room. Thanks, Kris" in my counselor's office I tell her what I think at the time. My mind moves at about 100 thoughts a minute. I speed. I've never been caught by my heart before, so I suppose I'm still safe for now.
But I sort of wish I would get caught by my heart. Or hell, common sense. I don't care. Getting caught changes me.
And it builds my attention span up.
I love you all,
Abby
P.S: Hey Dad, this was my rant. ^^
P.P.S: And also to Pops: I love you. I promise. So don't think I don't. Really.
P.P.S.S: I have nothing else to say.
"Still kisses with saliva....charm...fitter....happier....more productive....a pig....in a cage....on antibiotics"
The human race frightens me. It makes me lose all hope in the future. There is an add in one of my "Teen Vouge" magazines full of aneorexic models I am sadly jealous of, where it says "THE FUTURE! A musical to believe in."
I cut it out and am sending it to Rose with a homemade caption of "Lie"
I love those damn quotation marks.
I really want to write like this song. I want to make people think. I want to make people realise. I am not some thirteen year old girl obsessed with Abercrombie and Fitch and dancing like I know what I am doing. And being cool to guys.
I am myself, and I want to WRITE that so people know. I want to say it with words on paper. No mouths included.
And this "blog" is one of those projects. Those writing projects.I like to write instead of telling my family stuff. And I love them, I really do. But I am not going to physically TELL them things.I'm willing to face the fact that I'm chicken shit. ^^;; I will have you read it. Which plays a big part in the recieving of the link.
I'm so damn sick of the word moody.
Don't feel sorry for me either, because as much as I- and I'm completely honest- would love you to, i really don't deserve pity.
I love you all. I will always love you all. When you see the word suicide, don't go into red alert and think I am going to kill myself. It's a word. Not a promise, contract, or anything that bounds me to killing myself. It's just something I think about sometimes.
That sounds horrible.^^;;
So, I'm being honest guys. Up until now, I was doing fine. But now I'm wondering where to go. What to address.
So ever since I saw the sign "Leave 'I don't know' in the waiting room. Thanks, Kris" in my counselor's office I tell her what I think at the time. My mind moves at about 100 thoughts a minute. I speed. I've never been caught by my heart before, so I suppose I'm still safe for now.
But I sort of wish I would get caught by my heart. Or hell, common sense. I don't care. Getting caught changes me.
And it builds my attention span up.
I love you all,
Abby
P.S: Hey Dad, this was my rant. ^^
P.P.S: And also to Pops: I love you. I promise. So don't think I don't. Really.
P.P.S.S: I have nothing else to say.