Why is it that I have severe insecurities? I shouldn't feel any of the things that I do. I admit, at times I can honestly feel like the most beautiful girl in the entire world. It feels like a fact. And then something small and pity is said. So everything cracks. Sheds.
Broken.

Last night, the world turned upside-down. I feel perfect and free. He has proven love. I thank god he quit. I thank god he quit. I thank god he quit. I thank god he quit. I thank fucking god that I was more important.

I just ran to my door. I thought it was you, coming to apologize. I thought you were coming to tell me you've been foolish and that you want nothing more than to keep us together. I thought completely wrong.

Fuck you FedEx.  = /

The truth is, you care more about you than you do about me. The truth is, you don't know how to cope. The truth is, I'm sick of it.

I feel strangely content right now. I mean, nothing is particularly going wrong at the moment. So that's good. I'm only a little jolted by Columbine. I'm obsessing. Columbine is my new obsession. Or more so, the boys of Columbine. Eric Harris and Dylan.. umm. Klebold? Yeah.

I hate when Jon goes to Gordon's house. For the simple fact that Sydney is there. Because I honestly just.. want to hurt her for everything. Okay, maybe not literally. I care too much to mean that literally. But still, you know? Ehh. I guess you don't.
 So. I learned today that: Tyra Banks is hot. Maybe even hotter than me [lawl, of course]. She has ( Read more... )

I haven't written in a while, due to the sickness I've come down with. A part of me almost wished it could have killed me. I saw an ad earlier for Father's Day. Is that coming up soon? I certainly fucking hope not. I've never been so disconnected and unhappy with my father like this. I don't know. Rambling, I know ( Read more... )

I wish you would tell me all the things that I need to hear. Like how unworthy I am. How fucked I am [oh wait, you've already called me fucking psycho]. I'm trying to protect myself from myself but you're not in the least bit helping me. I'm addicted to abuse. I take it for as long as I can tolerate the harm and then flee. Perhaps Steph and I got ( Read more... )

I woke up this morning on a couch, next to my baby. With his family around. And everything felt right. And I was giggly and naturally intoxicated. Oh, life was perfect.
I walk into this house and unload a couple things from my bag. Sit down at my computer to write and reality sucks me back in to life. HURT.

GOD you make me want to die, sometimes,  ( Read more... )

I don't feel like I'm home anymore.

Somebody take me home.