Monday, December 10, 2012

left-handed girls?

Friday, October 26, 2012

i'm locking myself up

to achieve nothing

to lose everything

Monday, July 30, 2012

i guess i kinda like you because you seem to not care about me

but... no. lol

Saturday, July 21, 2012

back to my loser life lol

fuck everything


just so fucking sick of trying

Friday, May 4, 2012

i guess it was only a dream. but i did fall in love with you.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

i like you because you really hurt me.

you really hurt me because i like you.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

i'm just not myself anymore lol.

i've planned out my death though. i'll do it where i died emotionally and mentally and all that other shit. better yet if i could just cut off all my limbs and put them in all those place lmao idk.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

there is no doubt that i am being directly influenced by stream-of-consciouness punctuation-less capital-letter-less misanthropic african-american bloggers who enjoy hip-hop basketball and menswear. yeah idk. unoriginal.

Monday, April 9, 2012

social suicide.... complete

Saturday, March 17, 2012

am i dead yet?

no?

k back to sleep

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Monday, January 23, 2012

i just don't want to live.
away from home, lock my self in my room, don't eat.

only care about one thing and achieving that one thing even if it's not in my health's favour.

depression?

nope, school.
"self-inflicted gunshot wound"

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

death is sweet release.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

left to rot

quite possibly the worst dream of my life. i feel like killing myself.

__________________________________________


i'm going to re-read it and convince myself that everything was a lie.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

i just want to sew my eyes shut and die.

Monday, November 14, 2011

past life regression

a dead soul in a decaying, dying body.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

southern trees bear strange fruit
blood on the leaves and blood at the root
black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees

pastoral scene of the gallant south
the bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh
then the sudden smell of burning flesh

here is fruit for the crows to pluck
for the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
for the sun to rot, for the trees to drop
here is a strange and bitter crop.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

sometimes i wonder why i didn't die in that moment. no more hurt for me, no more hurt for anybody.

"i can't believe you did it..."

i'm sorry i hurt you. and continue to hurt you.

i can never forgive myself.