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:::::INTO THE VOID::::: |  |
 abOut a girl |
I feel siCk |
nOnSense. . . |
x x x x ( x ) x x x x |
x x x x ( x ) x x x x |
Weeeee linkies |
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Caution: Viewer Discretion Is Advised |
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vIOLENT wHISPERS If I could just kill you I could be clean And wiped free Of all these obscene Thoughts in my head Of you on the floor Broken and dead Like I was before So now its my turn To strike you the match And watch you burn Paybacks a bitch Maybe this time you'll learn |
| Willfully Disturbed taste my vibrant kiss of death in my world of black roses embrace ripe death as you walk into my garden........... BLOODY WHISPERS LOSING MY GRIP BLINDED BY DARKNESS RAGE WITHEN ME BURRY THR TEARS SHATTERED DREAMS |
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x p E r F e C t i O n.through. s i L e N c E x x bring me to life x hot fudge brownies. sex. cherries. butter on popcorn. cOokies. large slushies. a single joint and the hunted. |
| how do you fight your own conscience and thoughts? it isn't enough. somethings missing. through all the broken glass and metal bowls, through all the smokes and empty bottles your heart is still empty. suburban air will kill you. exhaling nothing but broken dreams and wasted lives mixed with carbon monoxide and weed. stained lungs and stained sheets. shattered hearts. your empty future. nothing will ever take this away. nothing will ever give you a reason to live. nothing will ever give you a reason to be beautiful. |
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what it is to truly stand alone everywhere i turn i feel i am met with a wall with nails driven in, the rusted tips advancing towards me with a speed that scares me. i am scared. more scared than i'll let anyone know. i am sick of pretending im this tough girl to everyone. i let my gaurd down with you, thinking i can trust you. but after an onslaught of curses of failure and being nothing, of hatred from my own family, of never ending reminders of my failures, my unworthyness, my supposed ugliness to them... i am met with the same from you. the two people in my life i hate the most, i realize i love the most. you and my mother. both of you strike a chord within me no one else dares come close to playing. i keep other ppl at a safe distance, although they dont know it. they all think they know, but they only know what i choose to show and say. i need to fix things. but the constant negativity disrupts me. the constant put downs and verbal commands of how i am nothing. |
| Smiling is only a symptom of happiness and can be faked. Do not assume that everybody who smiles is happy. you are all i have left at this moment. and that thought alone sends me into a whirling depression so unimaginable its impossible to believe i havent sedated myself. to soothe and blur the harsh edges of reality, i want so badly to escape into the dreamworld i was in for so long. countless days, countless weekends of uncontrollable partying, getting fucked up, of enduring and accepting the cracked out aftermath. i can almost envision it. i want to so badly grasp firmly onto the neck of the bong and inhale deeply, having my worries vanish in billowing clouds of sweet smelling smoke.. so i could take a break and escape for a while, so the thoughts in my head and worthlessness i feel can disappear and my mind can finally rest, so i can finally have a good nights sleep. to see the world in a different light, to go on adventures and discover a new meaning to nature and giggles. to taste the bitterness of the pill stamped with a symbol, as it lays on my tongue, so for a few mind shattering hours i can immerse myself in the power of the bass line, the splattering sea of flashing lights . to become bold and outspoken, to have the feeling you can overcome anyone, you can do anything. to twist the glass pipe between my parted lips as i deeply inhale the tasteless and almost invisible smoke, only to blow out a white cloud so thick people dub it as dragon clouds. to feel the beat of my heart palpitations race with adrenaline so i feel alive. so i feel something. |
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operating with assumptions often leads to malfunctions matters of the heart are smothering me right now, holding me back as i gasp for survival. you encase my head in saran wrap, looking into my eyes as i slowly deteriorate under your touch. i am unable to speak, paralyzed with excrutiating emotions. a twinge of pity glimmers as you slice the barrier between my lips. i eat the air hungrily, gulping greedily as you observe at a safe distance. pleading like a malnourished beggar on christmas day, i beg to be released from your poisonous grasp. without hesitation, you unveil me in silence, then turn on your heel and walk away. slightly stunned, i struggle to process what just happened. i am free. why was it so easy? this strange feeling of desire descends upon me as the prickling sensation behind my eyelids begins. the lack of words on your part sends me reeling into a dimension of confusion and doubt. |
| So many things i want to say. . . i think i'm mostly right in my thoughts. i want to express myself, but who am i to tell someone what's wrong with them? Same question i ask the person who tells me there is something wrong with me? "who are you?" no one, so fuck you. No, the fuck you is not out of anger. it's just that they lack importance so why should it matter. Life is so small yet so big. Everything is so beautiful in this life, yet the air is tarnished, people are tainted, mixed up in big ball of fucking confusion because there are is so much going on. So much pain is deep inside of me. i just keep it all inside and it comes out in my room in some trance.Why bother people with it? i don't want them to know my business but at the same time the pain is so numbing and persistent spreading throughout trying to slowly come out. it must stay inside because there is no point in letting everyone know. Most of the time it just brings stupid bullshit i'd rather not deal with. Why would i spread my pains and deppression to my friends? there are too many unneccesary judgements and assumptions that i'd rather just avoid because most people don't understand. That's perfectly understandable but often difficult and nagging to deal with. At the same time, i would like to share and pour out my thoughts to someone. NOT to tell you my sad story, the one everyone has. But just to share and feel free perhaps connect. Show myself. Unfortunately, it's not that easy for reasons well all know. The good thing is that i can do that in writing, and it's helping relieve me. One thing goes wrong and for that time being there is a stretch in my chest and a ball created in the middle full with mixed emotions i'd rather not have. They are unneccessary emotions and problems. After the destruction starts and it's like a stab for me and for the beings around me which in turn makes me so pathetically sad. i try to let it go but keeps a hold of me like a thick rope surrounding me giving me a pleasureable discomfort. I usually find myself apologizing to the people i love. I can't help being a bitch sometimes. At times is healthy but i let my anger take it way too far because to be honest i know i can. I know who will take my shit and the people who care do. Destructive disorder i doubt that's a condition but i'm just going to call it that....for fun. I love thinking about things except when i'm sad. I often think it helps me see more clearly but the negative effect is that i end up seeing bad stuff too. lows lows lows up up up. No i'm not manic deppressive. I want to live, i want to breathe, i want to feel alive again, not die. Random attacks keep pushing me away from living and coming back down to earth. My feet are on the floor, the deppression and myself often lifts me up and lets me wonder through problematic passages. As long as i have fun....that's the idea, isn't it? It seems like a good one to me. It just comes with a stressful high price. It's not that great to care. I don't, but eventually it all comes back and the guilt and pressure push me to care. I don't want to care after that has pushed me to the edge. i want to live again. Really breathe. i'm on my way........ i'll continue when i please |
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I wanna bleed, Show the world all that I have inside, I wanna scream, Let the blood flow that keeps me alive. i noticed i always tend to ravage my despair into the depths of anonymity that the internet provides. writing has always been my last resort in relieving myself of bullshit thats somehow found its way under my skin. my obvious surplus of foolish, headstrong pride intervenes with my inability to comfortably conversate and relieve myself of incessant internal wreckage. so instead of being normal and seek advice or comfort from helping hands, i tend to divulge and find comfort within myself. |
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