anything but me
blog!!
..:PART III: marvel...the cure becomes the curse...
(-Saturday, February 18, 2006-)
+[2:00 AM]+
--
it happened again. i'm pitiful. pathetic. poor chris. always wants what he can't have.
beat.
and with the power invested in me, i now pronounce you miserable.
beat.
i wish i was cured like leather.
beat.
this is what chris said at the last rejection. funny how it conveys the same overall feeling of depression, dismissal, and ensuing drunkenness.
bleed.
The first time I saw her, I fell so hard my heart broke. This rusty mechanical heart, programmed for beating, stubbornly continued its monotonous course, filling my veins with razor sharp shards and battery acid. The burning that coursed through my veins changed from a gentle concise throb to a consistent soaring hiss. I swear I could hear the crackling of my body burning.
The one thing I love about autumn, is when the fire from the trees consume the ground; through the rain, you can hear them burn. You can always hear me burn.
By the end of that day my eyes were as attached to her as her skin. Through the weeks, her routine haunting remain unyielding. However, her eyes reveal the painful truth. I am like a car wrapped around a tree. An instant decrease from 80 to 0. Certain driver casualty. I pray I'm blind. Obtuse to the bone. I'm like a child trying to catch the Easter Bunny. I'm like a criminal trying to rob Santa. I'm pathetic. I'm so depressed.
beat.
bleed.
break.
[+/-]
-----------------------------
So no pirates means no swag and no swag means no grog.
And we're getting dangerously low on grog.
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..:PART II: marvel...the cause becomes the cure...
(-Sunday, February 12, 2006-)
+[3:11 AM]+
-----------------------------
So no pirates means no swag and no swag means no grog.
And we're getting dangerously low on grog.
________________________________________________________________________________
..:PART I: marvel...the truth behind black stars on a black backdrop..
(-Tuesday, February 07, 2006-)
+[3:33 AM]+
--
i'm not one to wallow in self pitty. but i dont have anywhere else to express myself. so ignore this if it bothers you, ya fucking douche.
i am so depressed.
i've just been living in this state of apathy and insincerety for too long. it seeps through your pores, and taints your blood. if you don't catch it in time, you'll end up one of the mindless pseudo-people, and join rank in the mindless army of apathy. i've been having a harder and harder time connecting to people. i feel this chasm growing deeper day by day. its gotten to the point where i just feel completely and utterly alone. all i hear is my echo, and all i see is the barren desert. i dont have anybody. only you, my dear diary. you will help me overcome.
it's called winter depression. The extreme darkness of a northern winter syphons its way into the vacuum of your skull, beating its black heart and bleeding its black blood into your brain. It's like that. just without the darkness. or the winter. all you can see is that dark shadow your eyes are swimming in.
and then you meet someone new. and the loneliness dies, a bullet piercing its wicked heart. You watch the pool of bitter blood grow, as you frolic in what you had almost forgotten. a connection. somebody. so you nurture it. this is what you've wanted. this is what you've ached for. somebody. special. but then it dawns on you. this isnt new. it's an old person you've disguised in a simmilar body, in a simmilar voice, with simmilar mannerisms. and then you know. you dont actually know anything about them. only what you want to beleive. only the memories of who they almost are. the loneliness pulls a jesus. but thats what you get. its an emotion, it wont die you stupid fuck. thats what you get for being so damn dense.
[+/-]
-----------------------------
So no pirates means no swag and no swag means no grog.
And we're getting dangerously low on grog.
________________________________________________________________________________
My mood? Why, i'm the official grog-swilling, buckle-swashing,
purple-gutted, gubernatorial scallyspanker. Whadd'ya expect?
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