the smell, its putrid. my mind reeks of an awful stench. the thoughts, how trite! lay stewing inside me, oh great mass, gasp for air! do you not understand what a plague you are ( Read more... )

im too unstable right now to say anything of importance... which gives me no logical explanation as to why i am even updating at the moment. all i can do i hide in my books. and what a lovely world it is. the bell jar is simply delicate. slap me quickly, but with the rings in. pain cannot let me feel alive.

Saturday...March 24, 1984. Shermer ( Read more... )

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im sick mentaly and physicaly. im worn and incapable. the stress levels are just too damn high.

dynamcis of a flower (the child of my boredom and lack of creativity ( Read more... )

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i am walking on daggers with my mother. her placid voice chills my neck, and the words "we have to talk" draw blood. but i would rather live in the fear of getting caught than the fear of chronic bordeom and depression ( Read more... )

contentment? i think not ( Read more... )

bekka: you have all the right not to like it, because you want things to be real. youve had alot of things turn out to be fake, and that word is slung around the teenage population too much without meaning; something that goes against your morals as it does mine. if it was real youd like it, and though he thinks it is, he is like a child not ( Read more... )