What a blah day. I mean, blah. I wish I could just sleep, but then I'd have slept most of the past two days ( Read more... )

There's a quiet thudding in my breast tonight, unfolding like the descent of a pebble from a jagged ridge. Chance governs the path of this stone, and with each way rests a different ending. Will this rock meet a graceful fall, or will it be a collision into a larger force, a greater stone, hindering the obligation to gravity? Each reluctant roll ( Read more... )

ocean poppies: i'm hippie, sans for now drugs and sex ( Read more... )

I guess that's just as well. I mean, if I did, how boring? It'd be like this throughout my whole journal: I'm in love with Sean Watkins! Man, you kick serious bluegrass-ass! But I digress.

My life is totally bogus right now. Why is it that I realize what I want in life only after it becomes impossible.... And through Stephen, somehow. This evening ( Read more... )

I sat down at this computer and read the solitary line, "Alice," punctuated with a thirty minute lapse. Have you forgotten how to call me on a telephone? No, I remember - it's Cassandra.

You know what I really hate about you? You never read this diary. I told you about it, but you've never found the time or perhaps courage to look. If you did, ( Read more... )

Red. Blood. Tears. Nose dripping, too.

I'm tired. I want to die. I want to cut. I want to scream. I want scream, specifically, FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU WORLD.

I'm tired. I really want to do this. No one ever believes me.

I WANT TO DIE.

I've been a bitch, and I still feel like one. The sky has turned yellow like smog, but it's a storm. It's darker than at eight, yet it's six-thirty. I know a storm approaches. Maybe that's why I'm so disgruntled and upset. I wish it were.

Stephen e-mailed, and I know he won't e-mail again. I'm lonely, but I don't want...

and I don't want solitude

I'm really tired, and now I feel sort of sick, like I always do after eating nowadays.

Life is so screwed up.. rather... I am, and I don't know what to do about it. I'm tired.

Thanks Boldon.

I feel so physically sick right now.

And I want to puke up the chocolate I ate in the attempt to find comfort. It wasn't much, and in any case, I'm still losing weight ( Read more... )

( My Week and Beyond: Nightmarish. )