Not much to talk about, really. Me and mom sat down and watched Rocky Horror tonight, and that suprised me. She never was the type to take trannys so lightly (even if it is fuckin hilarious).


Emotions've been running wild lately; I don't know what to do or where to store them. Conversations aren't helping, lately, and death isn't an option this time, so i'm fucked. Blind again, passion is anger, and all that other fucked up shit that we used to think was poetic. Big news for you, guys, it ain't. Nothing beautiful about it. Simple lust for rage. Save me? Fuck that. I'll take my own life before someone sets me up.


Remember the time that we first met? You didn't know me. But I knew you. I had studied you (not stalked), I had fallen in love. But you didn't know me. I dreamt of all the things we could do together; of all the romantic things I would do to make you smile. But you didn't know me. And when I finally got the courage to talk to you, you didn't know me. God damnit, you didn't fucking know me. You didn't even give me the chance to say hello, you just accused me of being a stranger, even though I probably knew more about you then your parents did. I still have anger built inside of me, all of it is because of you. Take a guess why.


Y'know what, i'm really feelin shitty right now, so i'm about to go get something to drink (and a major Fuck You if you're opposed to it). So fuck one, fuck all, and have a wonderfully twisted day. Bitch.

Wholf at 1:17 AM