August 2011
3 posts
Well...
I had a nice day, with nice people, and nice things, in a nice place.
I met new people, few people, all of which who were nice.
But both of you need to come to back into my lives.
Hurry, Ke$ha is counting.
We could go and get 40's, fuck goin' to that...
I want to be in a nice place, with a nice person, with nice things.
Titles are stupid.
Everything I do is stupid and invalid, and those things that aren’t, never end up coming through.
You are making my nerves writhe in pain.
July 2011
9 posts
Dear you,
You are one of the most beautiful people in the world. You are the nicest person I’ve ever met.
You’ve never done anything to intentionally hurt me, ridicule me, or judge me, and you’ve never completely disregarded what I’ve had to say.
You don’t ask for a lot out of a person, but in return, you are given so much love because of it.
I don’t want to stop...
I look, I feel, I waste. Away.
I look at pictures of me from around a year ago and nostalgia stabs me in the back likea natural born Judas.
It’s 3:36 in the morning on a Saturday, and in this case, it won’t be a good one.
This is fucking ridiculous.
Why are people so fucking stupid, and why can’t they be as sure as they possibly can?
I keep listening to Poison Oak over and over again. It really gets me...
Bill Hicks, how I wish I were you.
OPS!
7:00 AM, Waking up in the morning...
I’m (temporarily) mentally free. I’m happy. This is happiness.
This is that feeling I that I had felt when I was walking towards my future on a bright Monday morning in the late of August, with that distinct smell that I could never exactly pinpoint what it had been.
Refreshing.
The feeling where everything was fresh and unopened, like no one had touched the moment itself, because...
None of my problems matter, I’m just a whiny teenager and everybody goes through their own version of this one way or another. I am fine. I think it’s tasteless and child-like to share your problems with everyone, that’s why I’ve always been so edgy with blogging, because nobody really wants to hear this.
An actual to do list:
As of right now, I am having what someone in a drunken stupor would call “a moment of clarity.”
Here’s what I need to do make myself happy:
Clean my room.
Do that stupid math packet for stupid people who are taking a stupid math class for legitametely retarded people.
Read:
A Good Man Is Hard To Find by Flannery O’Connor
A Farewell To Arms by Ernest Hemingway
...
August 2010
1 post
It’s hard to know whether someone is being truthful or lying to your face because you’re not in their head. You don’t know what’s going on. Maybe they really are being sincere, being the jaded individual you are, your conscious will tell you different, and trying to believe that there is at least an ounce of sincere feeling in their words, in their looks, or in their touch,...
