I'm about to rip out my fucking uterus and throw it in the trash where it belongs. Damnit, I'm so naseous and sore. Not to mention there's blood coming out of my vagina. FUCK YOU, WOMANHOOD! Ahhhhhh*&^&^*^(()^% the pain. Someone buy me some ice cream, please.

Edit: My mom bought me ice cream.

Holy shit! So, I was browsing my friend Nicole's journal, and she posted this picture she's in the process of drawing. Look:


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I've somewhere heard the phrase, "returning to one's journal every day is like returning to one's vomit". And it's true. So I must have some unseverable tie with vomit, because I cannot stop myself from writing in this damned pseudo-journal. Every attempt to actually do something creative with my thoughts has been futile, as I just come back to ( Read more... )

Deserting this for a while and reverting to my personal journal. I feel no need to contiue the facade of being a worthy person.

So I broke up with her ( Read more... )

SOMEBODY FUCKING KILL ME!!!!!

Or at least show me how to live my life for myself, on my own accord. MY LIFE IS EXACTLY THAT, MY FUCKING LIFE! Why can't I get that through my head and do what makes ME happy? FUCK ( Read more... )

I've been reading my Portable Dorothy Parker non-stop. She's such a brilliant author and poet. She's also very sarcastic, which I love. One of her poems I especially appreciate, in the sense that I can relate to it extrememly well. It's called "Inventory".

Four be the things I am wiser to know ( Read more... )

( googlism. )

So I just cleaned out/dusted/vaccuumed my whole fucking room. And I rearranged some things. Those of you that personally know me know what a huge deal this is. My room is clean! And no, I didn't do it on my own accord. We're having our carpets cleaned on Thursday, so it was manditory. At least it won't look like someone got brutally murdered on my ( Read more... )

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