"So You Want To Wear Your Heart On your Sleeve?" or "I'm Sorry, I Just Can't Be Cool About This Anym
ore" (because the title got cut short).
more pointless, self loathing, frustrated, blindly emotional shit than you can shake a broken beer bottle at (caution: seriously, don't read if you don't care, this is just a long pity party i had with myself)
I am sorry. I just can't be cool about this anymore. Just about every single day for about two to three hours (can be all in one interval or spaced throughout the day) I feel awful. i hate myself for making bad decisions. i feel foolish, silly, angry, frustrated, depressed (which includes but is not limited to lonliness), confused, and a mass of other unpleasnat feelings that often times shroud the world. And all of this because i'm not with you anymore. all of this because i miss you. all of this because i feel so bad for having done you wrong. all of this because the argument we had that night seems to have been permanently recorded in my brain and burned into the backs of my eyelids. all of this because i experience things that remind me of the pain you must have felt during certain rough times in your life that you told me about. all of this because i am just confused. all of this because i keep thinking you hate me. keep thinking you could have nothing more to do with me, and it wouldn't make you sad. keep thinking that maybe something will happen in the future. keep thinking that i should stop. that what i have to say and do doesn't matter anymore. i just wish we were still together, because i'd do so many things different. then again i'm confused. perhaps i just want to be with someone. perhaps i have no fucking idea what the hell i want. don't those types of people usually end up with nothing? maybe i'm just not man enough to be in a relationship.
..it says online that you are in a relationship. i don't know if that's from when we were together and you just haven't changed it, or if it's up to date. if the latter is true than i'm very happy for you. because you deserve better than me. actually because you didn't deserve me, because i suck, and you don't.
i don't know who i've failed more, you or me.
this entry is bullshit. so am i. so am i. so am i. i am the fucking bullshit.
my way of thinking is rediculous and selfishly naive.
i bitch bitch bitch bitch. all day i think think think about nothing but what depresses me.
i have fits of polar maturity and responsibility.
some days i feel exactly my age, other days even older. other days i have no fucking idea what i'm doing or what time is or anything.
i have no idea why i'm so depressed and feeling shitty right now.
there must be something wrong with me, probably that i'm so hard on myself that it could actually end up killing me.
i get high and it just makes me sadder.
accomplishment gently graces my self esteem and then seems to disappear, like running into a friend at a party.
will i be a ghost? if i die tomorrow will this fake shit that i fake deal with be a reason for my fucking soul to lay eternal on earth? not knowing i've died. waiting, for eternity, for rest from this that depresses me.
am i fake fake fake? the punchline for a blogger joke.
DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR LIFE. QUIT BEING DEPRESSED GODDAMNIT! START LIVING.
the thing is, i feel like ever since we broke up, many many things i've done have been with you in mind. i think, what would you do in this situation, how would you think? your standards are not bad. they're different from what mine are, in fact, they are higher. and i guess i'm trying to live up to them.
i feel like an awful terrible fucking ignorant stupid waste of a fuck goddamn useless selfish stubborn insolent uncaring worthless lazy melodramatic unreliable ass kissing tear jerking good feeling killing animal. an animal is what i feel like. capable of average thought, with a mouth and throat to eat the killed, opposable thumbs, look, i learned how to write. look, i learned how to cry. look, i learned how to lie. look, i learned how to be a cynical sarcastic asshole. look, i remember when i insulted your directions, i'm sorry. i remember when i said i didn't like your dog, i'm sorry. i remember when i talked to you at night, and made you sad, i'm sorry. i remember when you did your very best to talk to me when you offended me, how you felt so bad that you cried. i remember dozing off when you were talking to me at the end of the argument. i'm sorry. i remember i don't remember a lot from that conversation. i remember when i awkwardly waited another bus stop so i could get off with you, and when you wrote your number on my hand.i need to be stared at, have a head shaken at me, and have a back turned to me. i need to have a slap in the face, taste blood, watch tears that aren't my own but are falling because of something i did.
MY GOOD GOD LORD MARY JESUS AND JOSEPH. DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE THIS HARD WITH YOU JEREMEY? YOU KNOW MOST PEOPLE WOULD DEEM THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR ERRATIC AND PSYCHO.
somebody slap me. somebody tell me that my body is not always in an awkward pose. someone tell me that i'm all right. somebody come with me to the end of the world. somebody just take away my computer and point a gun to my head and tell me to stop thinking about all of this.
more pointless, self loathing, frustrated, blindly emotional shit than you can shake a broken beer bottle at (caution: seriously, don't read if you don't care, this is just a long pity party i had with myself)
I am sorry. I just can't be cool about this anymore. Just about every single day for about two to three hours (can be all in one interval or spaced throughout the day) I feel awful. i hate myself for making bad decisions. i feel foolish, silly, angry, frustrated, depressed (which includes but is not limited to lonliness), confused, and a mass of other unpleasnat feelings that often times shroud the world. And all of this because i'm not with you anymore. all of this because i miss you. all of this because i feel so bad for having done you wrong. all of this because the argument we had that night seems to have been permanently recorded in my brain and burned into the backs of my eyelids. all of this because i experience things that remind me of the pain you must have felt during certain rough times in your life that you told me about. all of this because i am just confused. all of this because i keep thinking you hate me. keep thinking you could have nothing more to do with me, and it wouldn't make you sad. keep thinking that maybe something will happen in the future. keep thinking that i should stop. that what i have to say and do doesn't matter anymore. i just wish we were still together, because i'd do so many things different. then again i'm confused. perhaps i just want to be with someone. perhaps i have no fucking idea what the hell i want. don't those types of people usually end up with nothing? maybe i'm just not man enough to be in a relationship.
..it says online that you are in a relationship. i don't know if that's from when we were together and you just haven't changed it, or if it's up to date. if the latter is true than i'm very happy for you. because you deserve better than me. actually because you didn't deserve me, because i suck, and you don't.
i don't know who i've failed more, you or me.
this entry is bullshit. so am i. so am i. so am i. i am the fucking bullshit.
my way of thinking is rediculous and selfishly naive.
i bitch bitch bitch bitch. all day i think think think about nothing but what depresses me.
i have fits of polar maturity and responsibility.
some days i feel exactly my age, other days even older. other days i have no fucking idea what i'm doing or what time is or anything.
i have no idea why i'm so depressed and feeling shitty right now.
there must be something wrong with me, probably that i'm so hard on myself that it could actually end up killing me.
i get high and it just makes me sadder.
accomplishment gently graces my self esteem and then seems to disappear, like running into a friend at a party.
will i be a ghost? if i die tomorrow will this fake shit that i fake deal with be a reason for my fucking soul to lay eternal on earth? not knowing i've died. waiting, for eternity, for rest from this that depresses me.
am i fake fake fake? the punchline for a blogger joke.
DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR LIFE. QUIT BEING DEPRESSED GODDAMNIT! START LIVING.
the thing is, i feel like ever since we broke up, many many things i've done have been with you in mind. i think, what would you do in this situation, how would you think? your standards are not bad. they're different from what mine are, in fact, they are higher. and i guess i'm trying to live up to them.
i feel like an awful terrible fucking ignorant stupid waste of a fuck goddamn useless selfish stubborn insolent uncaring worthless lazy melodramatic unreliable ass kissing tear jerking good feeling killing animal. an animal is what i feel like. capable of average thought, with a mouth and throat to eat the killed, opposable thumbs, look, i learned how to write. look, i learned how to cry. look, i learned how to lie. look, i learned how to be a cynical sarcastic asshole. look, i remember when i insulted your directions, i'm sorry. i remember when i said i didn't like your dog, i'm sorry. i remember when i talked to you at night, and made you sad, i'm sorry. i remember when you did your very best to talk to me when you offended me, how you felt so bad that you cried. i remember dozing off when you were talking to me at the end of the argument. i'm sorry. i remember i don't remember a lot from that conversation. i remember when i awkwardly waited another bus stop so i could get off with you, and when you wrote your number on my hand.i need to be stared at, have a head shaken at me, and have a back turned to me. i need to have a slap in the face, taste blood, watch tears that aren't my own but are falling because of something i did.
MY GOOD GOD LORD MARY JESUS AND JOSEPH. DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE THIS HARD WITH YOU JEREMEY? YOU KNOW MOST PEOPLE WOULD DEEM THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR ERRATIC AND PSYCHO.
somebody slap me. somebody tell me that my body is not always in an awkward pose. someone tell me that i'm all right. somebody come with me to the end of the world. somebody just take away my computer and point a gun to my head and tell me to stop thinking about all of this.