Seriously.

Let's call a truce.

I don't like people being mad at me or my being upset with people.

I'm afraid you'll yell if I extend the olive branch first.
Please. Do it for you. Do it for me.
We can be civil. It's really simple.
I'm ready.
The shoebox means nothing but closure for me.
I'm ready to put it all away and start again.
OK?
<3

I wanna call a truce with you just as bad.
It's just that I'm a stubborn motherfucker and once again, the last thing I want is the sting of rejection or drama-ish confrontations.
A handshake and a hug is usually the cure for these sorts of things.
All in its own time...

Grudges and anxiety are going to give me the mother of all ulcers. I can't stand it. I'll do anythihng to ease that and to extend a hand for a truce. I'll take the fall, let the finger land on me, just to get it all over with and let everyone carry on playing well and happy. Or something ( Read more... )

I have nothing but good things to say ( Read more... )

So I say whatever ( Read more... )

I have two gaping wounds that will only get worse before they get better. If I choose.

Too bad I didn't make myself aware of this earlier.

I have great friends. It's silly for me to silence myself. Yet I'll continue to...to a certain degree.

I'm getting more tattoos. Let them disown me. But they won't. So there.

Let's play dress up.
It's time to change things up around here.

Lesbians? Hardly. Such fools.

I am trying, I really am ( Read more... )

It makes sense that I listen to this song today. As I listened to it with a nervous stomach on that very night of a very lovely reconciliation ( Read more... )

I did (most) my homework.

But I'm not feeling so super great and I think that can mostly be attributed to lack of sleep.
I don't really want to go anywhere. I don't have any desire to drink tonight, either.

The days go by and I have less and less to write here. So I'm beginning to think what's the point?