I hate this journal. Consider it moth-balled until further notice. I have only one last Official Fuck You; I say to the world I have grown to hate so much, the politics, the drama, the useless nothings that fill up our otherwise empty pages, the everyday nonsense that just repeats itself day in and day out, to the fakeness of everything we see... ( Read more... )

The past few days have been so filled with action, filled with things worth remembering--but have I learned anything? It seems odd to me that nothing has changed... life will go on in the same fashion as before. So was it worth it?

Fuck it all. I can't take this shit anymore. Good times or no times. That's the ultimatum. Choose.

I often wish I believed in god, or gods, or something. I just wish that I truly believed that there was some greater force... and I kind of do, but nothing solid enough to put faith into. Sometimes I feel like if I believed in god I could at least say, "Yes, this isn't much fun... but it's all part of something big and amazing that I know will be ( Read more... )

It's unusual, how much other people actually affect us. Humans are such social beings by nature, and though I find myself hating most social situtuations, I still want to have them. Human relationships are beyond logic.

So how do we know? Though I have an answer to this question, it contradicts itself. I say that we know by finding out--when we think of something, or hope for something, we need to work on it until we come to some sort of psuedo-defininte answer. There are some questions with simple answers, and there are some questions that I fear will never be ( Read more... )

Her eyes, though dialated to the size of quarters, were beautiful. Her body, though scarred, was perfection. What else was there?

So there I was,
That guilty day...
Standing in the mist.

Temptation there
Was in the air,
And I could not resist.

Once upon a time there was a honey-bee. This honey-bee, like any decent honey-bee, desired a certain flower. Now, you must imagine, that like any honey-bee he would simply go to the flower, take some pollen, and be on his way... but this honey-bee was different, as was the flower. This honey-bee didn't just want pollen, he wanted the flower... he ( Read more... )

Words do absolutely no justice to the spectrum of human emotion. I could type for years, and never properly communicate how I feel. But... I bet I can get close. Maybe I'll start that later, too tired now.