I don't ever type things here
I really don't know what to do anymore, or if it's the rigtht thing. i hope it is. i want to be with you so badly.
Fuck that. It is the right thing. Fuck him, and fuck everyone else.
I fuck shit up though. I really do. I'm the kind of person where if I had a "It's a Wonderful Life" experience, the angel would take me around and show me what the world would be like if I hadn't been born, and it would probably be better somehow.
I don't know what to do though. I already said that, but it's kinda suffocating. And frustrating.
As Steven Malkmus said, "I'm trying! I'm trying! I'm trying! I'm trying!"
I was trying to explain this to Ashley the other day, but it came out weird. Or rather, what I was trying to explain was that lately i feel like I've just kicked a drug I've never started. Like my hands are busy, like they want to shoot me up or something. But not that. It's weird. Hopefully it'll go away.
I need to take a vacation from people, but fuck i'm afraid of being alone. that's the first time i've admitted that.
so i'm just going to go clean my room and watch the simpsons and put clothes away and do homework and be completely fucking normal because that's all i know how to do when i feel so weird and obtuse that it feels like i could slip out of my skin or that my head will explode into a million milky shooting stars, and they'll fall on people around me and burn them slightly.
if i slit the veins in my arm, my skin would peel away like dry paper, like an old map that has been well preserved by leads to nowhere. i would hear the paper spliting, like the sound construction paper make when you cut it with safety scissors in kindergarden.
i should shave my entire body
i'm really not this weird. im totally fucking faking it because i feel leftout and want you all to feel bad for me. I am this weird though, and that's sad. I'm weird in a way that doesn't sell. Noone will ever write a late teenage novel about me, or make my life into a CBS movie.
i think you could be my home though. like you're my home, i've found it.
sometimes i feel made out of leather. it's totally stupid. so much shit has happened to me that you would think that nothing would ever penetrate my callous, but really i'm still pretty young. I'm not that young, but I'm still pretty young and I'm happy about it most times, but sometimes it pisses me off because someone like you can totally shake my world still and totally give me that little pussy-boy 7th grade nervous stomach with just a word.
i used to tell people that i couldn't be fucked up anymore, but i think you could fuck me up if you really wanted to, but i have to believe you don't want to. you can't. I mean, you just can't.
all my bones hurt. i'm working class.
that's about it. no one deserves to know anything else about me. you don't. you don't deserve to know where i am or who i am or who i've been or where i'm going. you should swallow the mythology i'm feeding you right now and be goddamn fucking grateful to have that much of me.
this is true except for one person that i'm thinking of. a girl i know. she can know things, because i want her to know things.
but as for everyone else, "all I really wanna doo-oooo-oooo, is baby be friends with you," as bob dylan said. just take what i hand you. that's all i ask.
Fuck that. It is the right thing. Fuck him, and fuck everyone else.
I fuck shit up though. I really do. I'm the kind of person where if I had a "It's a Wonderful Life" experience, the angel would take me around and show me what the world would be like if I hadn't been born, and it would probably be better somehow.
I don't know what to do though. I already said that, but it's kinda suffocating. And frustrating.
As Steven Malkmus said, "I'm trying! I'm trying! I'm trying! I'm trying!"
I was trying to explain this to Ashley the other day, but it came out weird. Or rather, what I was trying to explain was that lately i feel like I've just kicked a drug I've never started. Like my hands are busy, like they want to shoot me up or something. But not that. It's weird. Hopefully it'll go away.
I need to take a vacation from people, but fuck i'm afraid of being alone. that's the first time i've admitted that.
so i'm just going to go clean my room and watch the simpsons and put clothes away and do homework and be completely fucking normal because that's all i know how to do when i feel so weird and obtuse that it feels like i could slip out of my skin or that my head will explode into a million milky shooting stars, and they'll fall on people around me and burn them slightly.
if i slit the veins in my arm, my skin would peel away like dry paper, like an old map that has been well preserved by leads to nowhere. i would hear the paper spliting, like the sound construction paper make when you cut it with safety scissors in kindergarden.
i should shave my entire body
i'm really not this weird. im totally fucking faking it because i feel leftout and want you all to feel bad for me. I am this weird though, and that's sad. I'm weird in a way that doesn't sell. Noone will ever write a late teenage novel about me, or make my life into a CBS movie.
i think you could be my home though. like you're my home, i've found it.
sometimes i feel made out of leather. it's totally stupid. so much shit has happened to me that you would think that nothing would ever penetrate my callous, but really i'm still pretty young. I'm not that young, but I'm still pretty young and I'm happy about it most times, but sometimes it pisses me off because someone like you can totally shake my world still and totally give me that little pussy-boy 7th grade nervous stomach with just a word.
i used to tell people that i couldn't be fucked up anymore, but i think you could fuck me up if you really wanted to, but i have to believe you don't want to. you can't. I mean, you just can't.
all my bones hurt. i'm working class.
that's about it. no one deserves to know anything else about me. you don't. you don't deserve to know where i am or who i am or who i've been or where i'm going. you should swallow the mythology i'm feeding you right now and be goddamn fucking grateful to have that much of me.
this is true except for one person that i'm thinking of. a girl i know. she can know things, because i want her to know things.
but as for everyone else, "all I really wanna doo-oooo-oooo, is baby be friends with you," as bob dylan said. just take what i hand you. that's all i ask.