the fruit is speechless ( Read more... )

it's you.

Why am I still awake?

...
your name is January
...

She said, "I'm not in love, but I'm gonna fuck you til somebody better comes along."

Why do I no longer write in this thing? Because I no longer have any original thoughts, or thoughts worth repeating. Why do I no longer have original thoughts? Because I have a job, and can no longer spend the day in a sea of abstractions. Also, my ability to write anything worth reading has devolved most atrociously. One would have thought ( Read more... )

I can't decide if this spot on my wrist is a scratch or another mark to be concerned about. Today it looks like it's healing, but occasionally the *other* one blanches, too. I suppose I will just keep an eye on it until Wednesday when I have the actual lesion removed. In a fit of paranoia I have started a list of various spots on my body to be ( Read more... )

I have to go and torture myself just to make sure it still hurts.

By now I should understand my place in the world and what is allowed and what is not. Every time I start to think differently about things I am served a painful reminder that things have not changed. A glorious affirmation that the things I've always thought about myself are true. I am not special. I am not important. I am not unique. I am ( Read more... )

Sicker and sicker and sicker. The highs are so high but the lows are getting lower and I am so cranky and irritable all the time. I hate it.
It's the same old story, same old song and dance, my friend.

Blank Page, by the Smashing Pumpkins. This song is the beauty of self sacrifice, making sadness a beautiful thing. It's the only song I can think of that glorifies giving up, letting go, relinquishing what you want for the person you love... that makes me feel so utterly at peace. There is no martyrdom here, just love. I am familiar with this ( Read more... )