Katie and I are the same person
Guess who's face is back on live journal? well, not my real face just a whole lot of Audrey. Bipolar Audrey you can call me. Or Katie Kay since pen names are forever. Stick it on me, scar me for life.
Let's get this going since I don't have all day. I made my old livejournal already predicting that I was going to have it for a long time. Enough to see my own progression has a writer, which happened until friendship goes down the tubes and you're just left as an egotistical alter ego that becomes an invisible monster. Not what I wrote.
Oh no, didn't expected it at all. I'd thought that I'd at least make it half way through my goal of operation dominance. But that just wasn't the case. I became a forgotten no name with one body and one damaged ego. Self image wrecked. Location: nowhere.
Then one day you have it all back, and realize, you've got to reach rock bottom to feel this fucking high. Because now I know I'm not alone. I've got Katie. The writer with far more talented and attitude than I've ever had. Kate fucking Dominance she's the one. The one who's going to show them all. I believe in her, I see in her. Great things. A terrorizing future for the ones in her way, boiling power aching for a fight. She's the one who isn't afraid to say that your full of shit. The one who makes all my friends listen and change into just a spacemonkey, programmed machine and walking ad for a fucked up life.
I left and now I'm back. If this world is as bad as when I first fell then I know that I can get back up again and again and two more times after that. Since, rock bottom is my story, it is my beginning and the journey is recovering to the center.
The center of calmness, peacefulness, and nirvana. Until Katie wakes up and brings me back down...purposely of course. What's the fun of being on top if you don't know how the bottom looks like? The top eventually gets boring, the people become predictable. It's never what I wanted if not I wouldn't have made myself mope all over a guy that I didn't have the guts to talk to. Or sulk about parents that don't have a fucking clue about my past. Or complain about friends that are not loyal that I push away from anyways. It's all just a set up don't you get it.
Every word, every second, every breathe, and every movement. It's all a play, a written story, I guess I'll leave you to fight for the roles.
I already write the fucking script. Psycho mom and perverted dad are already taken. Tortured boy and psychotic girl are still up for grabs.
Here today I start the story so you can read my progression, my lies of problems, fights and cries of poor helpless me to gain a little sympathy. All to feel insane again, alive. I am living through two different sets of eyes. Moody but ever so free.
Come with me. You'll see. Step into a pink and hazy world of insanity. Reach your highs and create your lows. All an illusion, even the fall