30January2007
This journal is closed.

had it right here,
but now it's gone.

I feel like I don't have a right to this place anymore. I sit alone on my blue suede couch and read your secrets on my flashy phone and feel like a peeping tom sticking my un-confessional nose into your private lives while I say nothing. In my mind, i've made this screen the one way glass separating myself from the girl whose body I am raping while ( Read more... )

Best thanksgiving I can remember.

Lots to be thankful for:

- new car
- wonderful girlfriend + her family that loves me
- being alive (year two)
- friends
- great job
- being mostly healthy
- making good decisions
- actually feeling like a good person
- people have faith in me
- cheap vanilla ice cream
- pajamas

There's more, I know it.

One thirty: lunch with parents, order nothing.

Twenty minutes later: flee from table in tears, citing inability to remain in current food establishment.

What the fuck, Jessica?
Get it together you worthless bitch.

in a wreck on Monday.
pictures later.

don't worry, i'm fine.

It's the cold.

The way I don't feel a part of it. It doesn't notch deeply into bonecore, leaving air-pocket marrow much weaker each time I choose less against self.

It's tall cups of bitter coffee that taste thin like a cigarette-smoke dinner, side of relentless control ( Read more... )

My chili's Philly cheese steak (hold the onions) tastes the way strychnine must,

It doesn't burn as much going down as it will coming up.

I guess I should be worried that I am this happy about fitting into these pants.

Eh, fuck it. Cheers to size four.

sort of a rough draft. the kids won't wake up this morning, and i've got the interwubbs! yay!

( it made it more real. )

Last night I saw the suicide girls burlesque show.

It's sufficient to say that I can die willingly now.

More later.
I love it here.