"You should slit your wrists"
he said, because I broke a heart.

The crowds wrecked havoc through the store. The crowds beat their needs into the mud. The great mass hysteria. The book was coming the book was coming.

"You should slit your wrists"
No one has ever said that to me.

I guess this is what growing up is about.

At least it was cured ( Read more... )

I made this so horribly complex. I have a feeling it's all going to end in hell.

but all I can do is try.

sorry to the ones I hurt.

here is I trying to take what I want.

what a fucking fuck up . . .

wakey wakey
time to get up
time to shave
do the laundry
get through another day
to wonder
what will the next bring

screaming kids and Harry's head on a stick!

wake up and smile ( Read more... )

sigh. today wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. my nerves almost killed me at one point.

what a beautiful smile . . .

why do I let my insecurities overwhelm me . . . ?

I'm such a fuck

I hurt. My wrist is cut from falling onto a fallen tree. My elbow and knee are bruised from trying to jump onto a roof. My left hand throbs from being slammed shut in a car door. All in all, it was a great night.

It's just that it will hurt tomorrow at work.

There was someone missing from the show, invited but not to come. There was an odd ( Read more... )

Phenemonauts were great, nothing like a rockabillyspaceastronaut band with a bunch of bouncing, falling, punching kids in a churchclubhallthing. My body aches, a little delayed, but it aches. The physical aggravation felt/feels good. I was a little more alive that night. The days are still a bit of a downer, yesterday being a horribly understaffed ( Read more... )

I haven't felt this low in so long. Not even when she kissed the other guy. I haven't felt this low since they fucked in the casino parking lot. I haven't felt this low since I was a teenager. I haven't felt this low as a man. Maybe I never grew up.

Here comes the work, here comes the smiley face, here comes the old fuckers with their questions ( Read more... )

The answers won't come to me, not in this little shroud of darkness--happy, murky waters. Touch me touch me . . . kiss me kiss like a song to Cure. This morning is depressingly empty, there were so many plans, so many opportunities . . . dans la poubelle.

"I've been a martyr for love ( Read more... )