I am not ready for me. I don't feel as though I can cope any longer; and who am I to turn to? People are so alien. I would be content without them despite the occasional yearning for social embrace, romantically or figuratively if only, simply, I could know, beyond reasonable doubt; that they would not be back to bother me. That is not, however ( Read more... )

it is all that i want, to be your motionless mast ( Read more... )

HEY CARYS!

Look what I found ( Read more... )

The way I feel right now is oddly reminiscent of getting your brain scrambled with a handheld blender. As if I've experienced that literally in a past life. Almost as though I am letting go of sanity. My life is falling at my feet, or at least to me it feels that way. But is it? I cannot safely say. I have felt lost, felt as if my body is suspended ( Read more... )

It's written like roads in the thickness of my skin, like veins weaving through bone and flesh, intertwining within my shell to form the eyes of those who cannot see. We can know this, this brutally fatality. We can own this, and the blueprints spread like railroad spikes along the surface of this world through the skin in my hands, over taut bone ( Read more... )

I shouldn't get back with you.

But I'm going to anyway.

...fuck.

What is the reason for my insatiable dissatisfaction? Why am I incapable of escaping unhappiness. WHY.

I am yesterday's newspaper ( Read more... )

I am utterly unhappy. I feel unwanted, and I have developed this sensation based solely on obvious incidents. I hate myself, but hey; I'm not alone! Other people hate me, too.