I haven't written in a while. I've been away for quite some time and I don't know why I'm choosing now to write in the ol' LJ. I have just turned 26 years old. I have a dog I love more than myself. I have a car that I didn't have three weeks ago. I have a sister who is getting married soon; she has a fiance who is perfect in nearly every sense of ( Read more... )

I will become a libertarian so that a suicide can be justified as my RIGHT to suicide. Or is there is a religion, besides Donatist, where suicide could be accepted or something. And I'll convert.. but probably God still wouldn't understand.

Yellow by Coldplay is at this moment the most beautiful song ever written and sung and shot through factory-standard earphones and into my unworthy ears.

Here is an entry driven entirely by cookies, Nyquil, and confusion. Two boyfriends ago I was single and broke and social and inquisitive. Now, I face loneliness and money and friends and apathy. There is voice posting and warranties and sticker shock. There is Austin underneath me and I try to suffocate my misery and confusion in Baked Cheetos ( ( Read more... )

Well, it wasn't all bad; I did have two and a half Christmases: one at Mom's, one at Justin's mom's, and I got a package from Dad in the mail I sort of enjoyed opening. He is notorious for giving the worst gifts ("Aunt Cecilia gifts" by Justin's standards). I realize the check is the most substantial part of Christmas giving from Dad but does the ( Read more... )

Strikes and gutters. Work is going well and I made nice grades in school. Anything other than that has been blocked out of my mind and forgotten; there isn't time to remember.

When I feel pain I imagine myself on the biggest rock at Enchanted Rock, on a clear night when you can see every star in the sky, and it's not too cold up there. I have a pillow because lying on a rock is hard. And I'm alone. The closest person is 1825 ft. below me and I'm all alone up there. Today, what hurts the most is feeling something like ( Read more... )

I hate my memory. I don't hate it, just what it contains. Especially the good memories. I don't see why people like to think about good memories, because they make me depressed and sick. Then I make myself depressed and sick and I just can't do it anymore. If there was a way to just erase all my long-term shit I would. This is why I don't want to ( Read more... )

Tonight there is no you. Tonight there is also no you, her, or him. There is no weather, there is no food. There are no experiences, just familiar memories of situations I'd rather not have been in. Soon there will be none of those, either. There are no texts and there are no IMs. I almost made myself throw up just so I could feel better, but ( Read more... )

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