fyi

Im going to get my fucking grub on

Life for sale

Im tired of being me. Do you ever feel that way? Here i am, writing to people who don't really even excist. What made me stop blogging the first time was that I was spending 5-6 hours online at a time. I didn't talk to people at school, I didn't talk to my friends....( What friends?) I just sat here, talking to essentionaly myself) that I became full with this...Empty feeling. In the past week I have spent $500 on cloths that I don't need. I am just on this trip about how my life is supposed to be and how it's not going there and how I CAN'T make it any where near it that it's actually starting to hurt. I hate who I am, and where I have been. I don't like to know what I have done and what has been done to me because truly I know all that I have done...Is only because I'm not thinking as I should and what was " Done to me" truly is only what I've let happen to me. Every year around this time I think back to it and waste about 4 months thinking of what I could of done to prevent it. It all comes back the same, I'm retarded and let it happen to myself. I hate thinking. It's a waste of my time. Right now...All I can think of is how much I want some root beer and how much I hate my life.

I'm a lame softy like that

I just couldn't find it in myself to come home tonight. It feels like a need to BE somewhere, to GO somewhere. It leaves me pulling the wheel back, right before I have to make that turn to my street. There's me, flipping through my cds trying to find the perfect song to name the odd feeling that I have created, than there's me arguing with myself on wither or not I should try to call an old friend or if I could bring myself to go buy a pack of cigarettes for the first time in 7 years. Things at work seem to be going right for the first time in a LOOOONNG time. So what is it? You tell me. I can't put my thumb on it, it's just a feeling of being tired. I'm just so tired of feeling anything I guess. Im on emotional over load. Too much being sad, to much being happy, to much listening to everybody cry, being the shoulder to cry on, being yelled at being laughed with, being talked to, being scolded, being there in general. I don't want people to go away, I just want to go away myself. I know when and if I do get away for a little bit...It will all just be there for me when I get back. The worse part is that when I get back it will be double and people will be raw from not being " Delt with" for the whole time I was gone. Is it really worth all the truble to leave in the first place? All I'll think about when I'm gone is the people I'm missing anywaz...I'm a lame softy like that.

Slowly

It's just as it was...just a little wild. There was a boy...Just as most stories begin...and than the boy was just acting a little diffrent than normal, boy gets wild and than boy has to be told to go away. Life as I know it.

That is all

God bless Hot door to door sales men

The Story of the un-lived girl

I'm incomplete. I've lost my other half ( My sanity, my faith, my passion). It feels like I'm alone in a world I have nobody else to blame for except myself. That hurts even more because I don't know how to get myself out. I have long subscribed to this well built idea that there is a person out there I can talk to. Not my " True Love" or the person " I'm meant to be with" but rather the person who understands what I'm saying most of the time and that I understand what they are saying. I miss having actual conversations with people because it's been long since I have had a person I actually fit with. It sometimes feels like there's that person out there...But that they have also spent long broken as I have. I don't want to become this Un-happy, un-lived girl. That's not who I want to be...But where I am now. Where did I take that wrong turn? And why can't I stop talking about it?

I'm too tired to care right now...

It's the breeze that swiftly moves throw the open windows as I pass through the twighlight lit streets, that remind me of what I once believed as the " beautiful theory". This was a childhood concoction that stated things in this world where not simply "pretty" and "Ugly" but rather, all "Beautiful" in their own little ways. Probably because I was never a popular child, I believed this for a very long time. After working in a store where you see much more than the normal amount of the earths rejects, you begin to look for the very ugly seed in most everybody. After a month or so learning what it really means to be an ugly person myself, I have learned one valuable lesson: We all are beautiful, it's only ugly people who can see the ugly in you, but it takes a truly beautiful person to see even the smallest bit of beauty in the ugliest of people. I definently am not one of those people, but there are days where I am dead tired from the last verbal assault of the night, and in will stroll this person who has this smile, this look, this something that makes me smile, giggle, be happy, be the person who wants to go on living again. I miss these people, I am one who seeks ugly in most but knows there must be more. I guess that means there's hope for me after all!

It's sad, not funny, kinda mean, more gray than untrue

Im real tired of being alone.