Dear Diary, My Teenage Angst Has a Body Count.
Lmaoi found this rant in my saved files.
i think it's mine from a while back.
kinda cool.
i dont know where i am in life.
sometimes, i feel okay. like just maybe the stink of always being looked at pitifully wore off, finally.
other times, other times i'd like to act out. do something crazy. scream, "fuck the world, watch me crash and burn."
But mostly i stand at the dissatisfied stand-still between
the brand new pair of buckled shoes you got when you were a little girl,
and the up-to-no-good intelligence you pick up every time you do that one illigal thing.
doused in honest bullshit.
liar. we're all liars.
filth.
i hate this.
the ones I hold closest know me the least authentically.
headed 90-nothing to failure.
i feel like this life is a dream, but I'm always awake.
I feel like i've been awake forever, but i just can't sleep.
Neat gallery.
I love making collages too
--
i considered how it would be to not see his face, his eyes, his smile, to not hear his voice, and feel the thrill through my body when the sound touched my ears, to not feel his hand brushing against mine....i’d die
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