Cliche cliche cliche. You have my heart, be fucking careful.

Beautiful. Couldn't have been more perfect in an absolutely unperfect way.

Up one good friend, down on the others. All romantic interests faded. Sleep.

my life and its course of events can eat a goddamn dick. What the shit seriously? How can I have so much fun and feel so amazing on top of the world and so bizarrely broken at the same time? It's an incredible alien feeling but goddamnit I want some stability for once.

What is this I don't even

The message has finally sunk through my thick skull. You can't worry about or hope for tomorrow. It may not and probably won't happen. Hell, you may die in the next few seconds. Just be happy with whatever's going on right now. Go with your intuition, no matter how crazy or cliche it may seem. Everything is in your head, everything. Your hopes for ( Read more... )

Old friend from DFW relapsed. Never thought I'd be able to make that claim. We always joked as kids about his addictive personality, he went through a 24 pack of soda a night. Now it's 320mg of oxycontin. It's absolutely heartbreaking. We used to hang out every night for two or three years, and when I saw him a month ago we had nothing in common. ( Read more... )

What a mess we've made.

Everyone used to have a purpose, a place, love. Now everyone's searching for their's. We find a single purpose, place, love. This isn't how life used to be, was supposed to be.

Liquid friendship.

I just can't get into it. I find my pockets of empathy, and it's great. The club scene is mostly amusing, but forever foreign.

I just don't want to care anymore.

Things are looking up, and I keep looking down. Just keep having to pick my head up.

"Secret lot" now tows. On a saturday night. At midnight. Cool.