I've been working with a higher degree of apathy lately. Or maybe not apathy, but I just don't care as much what people may think of me. I am getting more used to telling people what to do and how to tell them what to do. It could be because I've been so tired lately. I've had really impressive bags under my eyes these past two weeks ( Read more... )

I feel like there's a lot I've already given up for you ( Read more... )

Its all my fault, I can't concentrate ( Read more... )

When I think of tragedy, a lot of stories come to mind.
Some figures, some characters, you think could have avoided their fate, no?
I think so.
But that sure would be a boring story, wouldn't it?

My face looks like death ( Read more... )

My stomach hasn't been feeling well. So I sat on the toilet seat, pants at ankles, glasses in fingers, face in hands. The edges of my palms just above my eyes ( Read more... )

Just like that...
No drama, no tears, no sorrow, no grand send-off, no goodbye kiss.
Its over.
Covered over.

She's gone.

You know what causes people to lose grip ( Read more... )

There comes a point in time where I can't continue working on my project ( Read more... )

I've been avoiding you.
Because I like the pain.
And I know you'd make me feel better.
You'd say all the right things.
I can't even be miserable.
Just always in between love and death.