idiot / whining

Idiot,
you
had
your
chance.

Idiot,
so
did
you.

Idiot,
stop
this
game.

--

It's impossible to follow up a decent blog post with something ultra shitty and wannabe humorous like that.

What if Adam and Eve were just test rats?

Don't get the wrong idea.. This isn't going to be a philosophical post.

I've been thinking and thinking and I know I'm the villain in this situation, as always, but I'm tired of feeling nothing for you. So, fuck, whatever. I give up. I've got to do something about this.

And I get scared,

but I'm not crawling on my knees.

--

I think it's kind of pathetic to beg for your life. If there was a gun to my head, and I could choose to beg or die, I think I would die with my dignity, rather than live knowing I had only lived because I groveled to someone who didn't deserve it. It just shows, the ignorance of human pride. I bet the Dali Lama wouldn't beg either. No, he definitely wouldn't. Not to say I'm on the same level as the Dali Lama, because I'm definitely not, but still.

Honestly though, the point of this is, it's sick to crawl on your knees and beg for something that's not yours in the first place. But it's not their right to take that away, either. This supposed mugger, or villain, or what have you. If I ever beg, shoot me in the fucking head and get it the fuck over with.

I am so

Confused.

Gahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Your hands are already around my throat. You're suffocating me.

And you don't even know.

Choking on your alibies.

Go ahead, pretend to know me, it'll be fun.

Dream boy.

Yeah, it's idealistic, and yeah, it's irritating, but I'm going to go ahead and do it anyway. Oh and yeah, Maxwell's post gave me the inspiration.

My dream boy would be a little something like this.

- A boy who is honestly intelligent.
- A boy who would listen to me, and take me seriously when I'm trying to be serious, but laugh at/with me when I'm not.
- A boy who smells good. Like, Bone Daddy cologne and that plain old boy smell.
- A boy who can dance around to Motion City Soundtrack when we're in the mood, and at other times whisper the lyrics to a Bright Eyes song along with me.
- A boy who dresses how he wants, but not too scruffy or too childish. A boy who just dresses like himself.
- A boy who would never even dream of breaking my heart. And who trusts me with all of his.
- A boy who can look past how stupid I can be, how flirtatious I can be, how completely senseless I can be, and love me anyway.
- A boy who is cute, literate, cuddleable, & interesting.
- A boy who wouldn't mind if I doubt his affections, because he knows that's just how I am.
- A boy who would watch anime with me and not get pissed off at my squealing over Ichigo and Edward Elric. But he would get jealous, because I think that's cute.
- A boy who doesn't like to talk on the phone, because I don't, either.
- A boy who doesn't think it's a gyp that he loves a girl who's heart seems to be perpetually broken.
- A boy who laughs at my stupid jokes.
- A boy who is soft and sweet and delicate.
- A boy who compliments me, just because.
- A boy who doesn't lie to me.
- A boy that doesn't need to be with me constantly, but wants to all the same.
- A boy who is artistic and clever.
- A boy who cares and wont give me up for some stupid skank.

I hope you stay true to your word.

If you are so terrible at making yourself happy, if you ruin every chance, who's to say you wouldn't do the same with me? It seems as though at the exact point I cannot, absolutely cannot, have you, it's you I want. Not to say I didn't before, but now it's almost staggering and it's scary.

I just don't know if I can handle this.

choke.

"Who is she? This girl?
Who with a look,
reduced me to rubble.
Is she a thing from outer space?
Some radioactive horror waste?
Or a zombie with a pretty face?"

Blah.

I suppose I am just supposed to be one of those girls who sits on the wall and reads a comic book.

That's fine by me, though.

Being this angry for so long gets really exhausting, but I'm just going to start again tomorrow. At least I have some time to myself.

Macon, like bacon?

Listening to Morrissey consoles me when I can't draw anything.

I haven't been updating and I'm not what you would call inspired, so this will be a pointless, yet necessary, entry, I'm afraid.

I am completely dreading high school. I really am. The idea makes me want to vomit.

This is going to mold who I am. And I'm nowhere near ready.

I want to be like Macon and Madison.

If you know who they are, marry me, promptly.

Silver screen notations.

"Self improvement is masturbation."

I'm not sure how that relates to anything I'm feeling right now, but I like it.

--

Anyway, today I had a conversation with.. Okay, I'm lying, I sat around all day.

But I was thinking about how spending money's not all that it is cracked up to be. You think you're excited for something and you get it, and it's over. Instant gratification will get you nowhere. In my humble opinion, at least.

I don't know how this glowing box keeps me so amused. I need to get back into the habit of seeing friends every day, which I didn't fall out of until.. This week, I suppose.

Normally I would write about my feelings or something as equally depressing/uninteresting/cliche, but I'm feeling different tonight.

Maybe all those people who try to devote their lives to saving the earth are hypocrites. Maybe we're already too fucked to do anything more, and all we can do is sit back and watch everything we know implode. If the sky opened up, there would only be ourselves and our memories.

I wish it would. I have a lot to think about.

breathe.

To be perfectly honest, I have nothing to report. Not a spark of inspiration is coursing through my veins.

I just needed to update, because it's (luckily) becoming my nightly ritual again.

I'm sick of people who whine about how bad their lives are. Bragging about your eating disorders and other such malfunctions will not earn you respect. So go fuck yourself.

Tomorrow, I get to see your smile again.

It has been sorely missed.

And tomorrow, I will be able to kiss your smile again. And you are so cute and you are so sure. It's funny to me, how quickly a dependency can develop.

You had me at hello.

Romance.

Typical for movies.

Impossible for real life.

Why does nothing work out unless a Hollywood producer decided to make it his own?

Out of line.

In case you were wondering, the title's irrelevant.

I'm sorry I have been neglecting you, dearest blogger, but I've been busy and I know that's no excuse. So, yeah, let the cars keep swerving, let the songs keep skipping, I'm back for good.

I'll elaborate, I promise.

Two more sleeps until Gabe is home.

AWKWARD

awkward awkward awkward, if you say it enough it just becomes a noise

I don't know why I am telling you this, it's irrelevant to almost everything

I am happy though and irrelevance is irrelevant

Even if that's dumb and wannabe clever

so is everything I say