birth before conception.
I just want someone to write to.
hear me out. for christs sake.
there will never be enough ears to listen to everything I've got to say.
so shut the fuck up and start listening. reading. caring.
these are the days.
crying for no reason.
theres a feeling in the pit of my stomach.
open doors are making me nervous
aurora makes me depressed.
all I need is one phone call.
one phone call I will never get.
I'll handle it though
I always do.
maybe I wish I wasn't feeling so dead
you know. a doll with no face or something like that
I like to pretend.
I'm going to throw up all of my ideas onto paper.
write a novel
a real fictional book.
it'll end with martyrdom
we both know
I'll be more famous once I die.