This journal is semi-public. If you're a close friend and you want to read the good juice, leave a comment. Otherwise you just get the basics. I'll slowly be making some of my old entries public, depending on the content, and deleting a lot of them; I don't care to read about my life with exes and old high school drama.

I must say, I'm really happy with the way this piece turned out. I've had writer's block since the accident, and I've desperately felt the need to write something, anything. I finally got this out at 5:30am this morning, and after editing it just now for 5am-brain-suckage errors, I share it with yous guys. Feedback appreciated!

I press my pen to ( Read more... )

Broken, empty, fragile, emotionally unstable...it's all different covers for the same boring, repetitive book, the same bitter result of an inability to let go of the past. You can't move on; God forbid you end up happy with no reason to cry for attention. Instead, you wallow in a pool of your own self-pity, sponge-bathing yourself in everyone's ( Read more... )

Comfort is a debatable topic. I lay far enough away to give you your space but close enough to smell the beer on your breath. I can't find places for all of my body parts because I wish they were intertwined with yours. I want to stretch my arm over your back and wrap my legs around yours, but your posture tells me to keep my distance. Waiting ( Read more... )

I tipped my head back and let the warmth consume my throat. I knew when I felt it hit my stomach that the feeling would start. my tongue would go numb, allowing me to inebriate myself further with other less appealing liquids. Soon I'd have that moment of clarity like every other time. I'd gain that drunken common sense that leads to life ( Read more... )

Bars. Clubs. The movie theatre. Myspace. Church. Work. Everywhere she goes she observes. Every guy who remotely piques her interest is a potential Mr. Perfect. He sits at home, twiddling his thumbs, dinner made, a bouquet of roses on the table. He couldn't believe he forgot their anniversary until an hour ago. She can't understand how she ( Read more... )

How can I even think about something as trivial as sleep when I reach over to the other side of the bed and it's like brushing my hand over the Atlantic in November. I washed the bedclothes to rid them of your scent, but somehow the icy touch of them makes me nostalgic for being 13 and not knowing what an empty bed feels like. I was glad to sleep ( Read more... )

Days are so full of routine and appointments and have-to-be-theres that I can’t stop to analyze how I actually feel. I need a stimulant to jump start the process. Throw some rohypnol in my gin and date rape my senses. Forced emotion seems to be the way to go, and I took theatre in high school. I know my way around a wink and a smile and a frilly ( Read more... )

It’s funny how life contemplation often follows a night of Jager-flavored vomit floating in the back of your throat. The cool glass of the mirror does nothing to calm your head as you stare at the foreign reflection. You’re not that person you knew. You never were. You’re a facade, just like everyone else. This alcohol-tinged angst gets you ( Read more... )

I never expected to be so stagnant by 21, but maybe I’m one of those puddles that was stepped in so much it splashed out all of my substance...all but that small bit of muddied, undrinkable water. I never cared much for hydration, anyway. IVs are the new valium, and I’m dead set on fashion. Slap the wristband on and fill my veins with the same ( Read more... )