(no subject)
Never.
So many things fill my mind, but I don't want to talk about any of them...I guess I'll type them. Maybe I want the world to see. Maybe I need the attention. I don't know what I want. My life will never be anything. I'm stupid, ugly, crazy, deluded. Not worthy of this thing called love...no love. No hope. Nothing. Hey...that reminds me of a quote from a movie I saw. I said it to you once..or maybe I didn't say it. I posted it in an away message hoping you would read it.
The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none.
But for me the leaves don't sway in the breeze and fall on their own accord. You shake the very foundations of me...grab hold of my trunk and push with all your weight, shaking the branches and with it leaves...your words like a violent autumn storm piercing into me...pulling the leaves from their branches, my hopes scattered to the wind.
Maybe I'll never know why your words mean so much to me. Why you hold so much sway. Why I take your words so personally. You're the only one who says it. But I see...the darkest part of me. I want to look away.
I long to feel your arms around me...but even those words are like a curse. I shouldn't feel this anymore. I shouldn't want it. You never loved me. You wanted me to be the person to pull you away. But I knew it was wrong... I held the one thing I wanted in my hand, but I couldn't bear it. Morality made it burn...I can still feel the heat of that hot ember on my bare palm...as I gazed down at it. Even now I still look down at the now empty space...there is no mark. Part of me wants to burn it there...a scar like the one in my heart and mind. The pain still yearns to spill forth, but I close my lips tightly to hide it away.
I love and hate you...but I can't let you go. Like the scabs I pick at, I always come back, knowing it will hurt and that nothing will ever come of it. I will never feel love. I'll live and die alone. I know it. Right now that is my truth. Maybe some day I'll look back on this journal...see this lamentation...and laugh. But that person, that version of me, that could look at this entry and laugh, that is not me. Not now.
My hand rests again on the deck of cards...as if the images upon them can hold the answers. My fingertips are purple from the cold. I wish the darkness that came with the cold would come again. I wish I could lay down with him and forget if just for a moment. But I know the drive home too well..the streets leading home and to my dark room. Eight of Staves. A message of hope. The pieces of my life will come together. Spiritual and Lifestyle change. Rapid evolution. Sounds like a fortune cookie to me. But the cards always seem to prove right in the end...self-fulfilling prophecy maybe. I found a 20 dollar bill stuffed in among my cards.
Gah...I'm done. Gonna sleep and try to break this cold. Fuck.
So many things fill my mind, but I don't want to talk about any of them...I guess I'll type them. Maybe I want the world to see. Maybe I need the attention. I don't know what I want. My life will never be anything. I'm stupid, ugly, crazy, deluded. Not worthy of this thing called love...no love. No hope. Nothing. Hey...that reminds me of a quote from a movie I saw. I said it to you once..or maybe I didn't say it. I posted it in an away message hoping you would read it.
The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none.
But for me the leaves don't sway in the breeze and fall on their own accord. You shake the very foundations of me...grab hold of my trunk and push with all your weight, shaking the branches and with it leaves...your words like a violent autumn storm piercing into me...pulling the leaves from their branches, my hopes scattered to the wind.
Maybe I'll never know why your words mean so much to me. Why you hold so much sway. Why I take your words so personally. You're the only one who says it. But I see...the darkest part of me. I want to look away.
I long to feel your arms around me...but even those words are like a curse. I shouldn't feel this anymore. I shouldn't want it. You never loved me. You wanted me to be the person to pull you away. But I knew it was wrong... I held the one thing I wanted in my hand, but I couldn't bear it. Morality made it burn...I can still feel the heat of that hot ember on my bare palm...as I gazed down at it. Even now I still look down at the now empty space...there is no mark. Part of me wants to burn it there...a scar like the one in my heart and mind. The pain still yearns to spill forth, but I close my lips tightly to hide it away.
I love and hate you...but I can't let you go. Like the scabs I pick at, I always come back, knowing it will hurt and that nothing will ever come of it. I will never feel love. I'll live and die alone. I know it. Right now that is my truth. Maybe some day I'll look back on this journal...see this lamentation...and laugh. But that person, that version of me, that could look at this entry and laugh, that is not me. Not now.
My hand rests again on the deck of cards...as if the images upon them can hold the answers. My fingertips are purple from the cold. I wish the darkness that came with the cold would come again. I wish I could lay down with him and forget if just for a moment. But I know the drive home too well..the streets leading home and to my dark room. Eight of Staves. A message of hope. The pieces of my life will come together. Spiritual and Lifestyle change. Rapid evolution. Sounds like a fortune cookie to me. But the cards always seem to prove right in the end...self-fulfilling prophecy maybe. I found a 20 dollar bill stuffed in among my cards.
Gah...I'm done. Gonna sleep and try to break this cold. Fuck.