I'm not quite as passive about this whole living thing any more. I could either enjoy things in life, be miserable, or be numb. Now it's grown tiresome. Getting up is tiresome. Getting dressed is tiresome. Living is tiresome. Everything that goes on around me, everything that others enjoy just seems like a distraction from the inevitable death ( Read more... )

Every day I fight a war against the mirror.
I can't take the person staring back at me.
I'm a hazard to myself.

I have had my chances. I have tried and tried.
I have stitched life into me like a rare organ,
And walked carefully, precariously, like something rare.
I have tried not to think too hard. I have tried to be natural.


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I fucking miss my old livejournal already