(no subject)
sometimes i feel like marissa in last weeks episode of the oc and i just want to break shit.
sometimes i can't stand it any longer and i want to rip each and every organ from my body and weave a blanket out of my intestines. i would clean them first though.
sometimes i wonder if i will ever really be thin or if i ever really be pretty and really all that leads me to is popping another blue pill and smoking another white cigarette and writing another tangled incomprehenisble jumble of feelings in my black notebook that no one will ever read. or no one will ever care enough to read about.
sometimes i also wonder if i will acheive any level of intimacy with a person that i don't immediately regret.
sometimes i can't stand it any longer and i want to rip each and every organ from my body and weave a blanket out of my intestines. i would clean them first though.
sometimes i wonder if i will ever really be thin or if i ever really be pretty and really all that leads me to is popping another blue pill and smoking another white cigarette and writing another tangled incomprehenisble jumble of feelings in my black notebook that no one will ever read. or no one will ever care enough to read about.
sometimes i also wonder if i will acheive any level of intimacy with a person that i don't immediately regret.