February 2012
I was just reading over my old poetry and realizing how much I hate it.
Who let me write that shit?
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Everything is torn— Ink from page, memory from mind. Fragmented, Stagnant.
Nothing changes; Time stays the same and I’m growing older.
Just not happier.
Gold to Grey, Tan to Silver, Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust. What are we anyway? Why are we anyway?
Save me.
Realizing how much I hate where I am and what I’m doing.
This is not what I want to do—I don’t even know what I want to do. I just want to do something, for once, that makes me happy. I want something that I love, anything.
It’s pathetic that I can’t just do what I want do do, but I can sit here and bitch meaninglessly about how much I hate everything and want...
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Anorexic - Eavan Boland
Flesh is heretic. My body is a witch. I am burning it.
Yes I am torching her curves and paps and wiles. The scorch in my self denials.
How she meshed my head in half-truths of her fevers
till I renounced milk and honey and the taste of lunch.
I vomited her hungers. Now the bitch is burning.
I am starved and curveless. I am skin and bone. She has learned her lesson.
Thin as a rib I turn in...
When you give up writing an academic paper because you’re such a shit writer.
God help me.
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I’m a ghost.
I suppose if I were anything else the quiet, eloquent mutterings of my 12:00 A.M self might mean something.
I suppose if I were anything else; You might love me.
Why am I such a miserable little fuck?
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Do you ever wonder if you’re just not good at anything? No matter how hard I try I always find myself to be sub-par or just second best. I want to be good at something, you know? Everyone has their thing—one thing they’re really good at, really proud of. I want that. I want to discover something, anything, I’m good at. Something I can run to and forget. Something I can run...
3 tags
The mist has risen. Things are missing; out of place. Please, don’t forget me.
I would like to go out somewhere.
I’m such a shit writer.
Before the sad becomes and unescapable pit.
I’m going to bed.
I just think that if I were really anything at all, someone would notice.
Anyone.
I feel silly because I always feel so sub-par.
I don’t understad.
I just wish someone wanted me.
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You're single?! ON VALENTINE'S DAY!?!
Oh well guess what, so is every other motherfucker.
So deal with it because some day all these lonely motherfuckers out there are going to get together and have kids who grow up to be more lonely motherfuckers on Valentine’s day
Everyone gets their time.
Go out, love your friends.
Eat, drink, be merry.
Love.
diqe:
ladygagagasm:
Adele: an 11 track album about heart break
Gaga: a 17 track album about unity, love, and being who you are
Adele’s fanbase: proud fans of a talented singer
Gaga’s fanbase: psychotic homosexuals with nothing better to put all their energy to but worship Gaga as their god and complain about those who don’t
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Adele deserved what she won tonight over all the competition she faced.
Legitimate Musical Talent > Exploitation of the Gay Community
Why am I so sad.
I want to go for a drive.
Someone date me.
I discovered the reason Whitney died: Blue Ivy came into this world, and someone had to go.
Why are there no adequate homosexuals interested in me, or any that live near me?
diegoxdisco:
being gay is like being in an exclusive club full of people you hate
Someone just hit the nail on the head.
All the gays are all hard for Madonna and I’m the only one who didn’t care.
I somehow have never felt it’s incredibly appropriate to put pictures of September 11 up and have everyone reblog them.
Guys, I think, maybe, that’s in bad taste?
I wish I were happy.
Sitting here having a pre-sleep revelation or something. I just really am surprised at how much my goals and ideas about what I want in life have changed since the first day I started college.
It’s really actually kind of weird how I don’t feel like I’ve changed as a person, but how entirely shifted my perspective has become.
I don’t know exactly how to describe it.
God damn it, Chelsea has me sitting here listening to My Chemical Romance.
How does this happen?
What if I were attractive or cool or something?