and in the end ... the love you take is equal to the love you make.
i don't write here anymore. i don't read anything posted here anymore.
at first i thought it was because i had nothing to say that anyone would care about.
wrong.
i just don't care.
although livejournal did teach me a few things.
most people are really, really shitty friends.
you can never completely bare yourself to the world. there is always a lot that most people don't know.
even people who are shameless are ashamed.
and everyone's drama is their own drama. no one will ever know how it feels or the extent of the feeling. livejournal desensitizes.
i am a completely different person than i was when i started this stupid thing. the issues i have, a journal can't heal. i am done.
the rest of this entry is for me. so i remember how i felt on this day. at this time. on most days. all the time.
my heart hurts. i wonder if most people are afraid to fall asleep every night in fears that someone they love won't be there when they wake up in the morning. not just in the morning. when they take too long in the bathroom. or when they can't quite speak clearly. or when they answer questions you didnt ask. how about when they can't remember what is going on? do people have nightmares every night? what gives them nightmares? other people's nightmares? looking at photographs? realizing the vast changes in such a short period of time? time. there is never enough time. there will never be enough time. every day is too short. another day isn't enough. i can't look at pictures of angels or saints or deities without wondering if they'll take care of him for me. if they're watching him right now. my heart still hurts. because it hurts all the time.
at first i thought it was because i had nothing to say that anyone would care about.
wrong.
i just don't care.
although livejournal did teach me a few things.
most people are really, really shitty friends.
you can never completely bare yourself to the world. there is always a lot that most people don't know.
even people who are shameless are ashamed.
and everyone's drama is their own drama. no one will ever know how it feels or the extent of the feeling. livejournal desensitizes.
i am a completely different person than i was when i started this stupid thing. the issues i have, a journal can't heal. i am done.
the rest of this entry is for me. so i remember how i felt on this day. at this time. on most days. all the time.
my heart hurts. i wonder if most people are afraid to fall asleep every night in fears that someone they love won't be there when they wake up in the morning. not just in the morning. when they take too long in the bathroom. or when they can't quite speak clearly. or when they answer questions you didnt ask. how about when they can't remember what is going on? do people have nightmares every night? what gives them nightmares? other people's nightmares? looking at photographs? realizing the vast changes in such a short period of time? time. there is never enough time. there will never be enough time. every day is too short. another day isn't enough. i can't look at pictures of angels or saints or deities without wondering if they'll take care of him for me. if they're watching him right now. my heart still hurts. because it hurts all the time.