Ten minutes can go past without you brushing my thoughts
That's fourteen forty a day so I'll say a hundred and forty four times
I think about you or something like that
You're perfectly perfect for me.
What the ******** is this, practice?
Actually, if you even consider leaving,
I'll lose a couple screws in due time, I'll stop breathing,
And you'll see the meaning of stalking
When I pop out the dark to find you,
And that new dude that you're seeing with an attitude,
Then proceed to ******** up your evening
I love you so much that my heat stops beating when your leaving,
And I'm grieving and my heart starts bleeding,
Life without you has no god damn meaning
Sorry I'm passive aggressive for no god damn reason,
It's that my mood change like these god damn seasons,
I'll fall for you, but I love you.
Some song my sister was playing earlier.
I don't know what it's called, but I ******** like it.
I should probably Google the lyrics.
Well maybe not I don't need any new music right now actually.
I'm still enjoying what I have, only download when I need to.
It's the simple fact that music is a slut that I can use repeatedly when I need.
That's how I view music.
I still love it.
Is that wrong?
Everyone has music, and everyone loves it.
I'm not any different from everyone.
Now tell me why people look so disgusted when I express my thoughts.
Why no one wants to talk about dark things?
Why everyone pretends we aren't all ******** in our own ways?
“In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.”
Lews Carrol was on to something I swear it.
I swear if I go another day with my teachers asking if I'm okay.
If one more person asks me if I feel okay.
One more time somebody pretends to care.
I'm going to kill someone.
I quite agree with you. And the moral of that is: Be what you would seem to be, or if you'd like it put more simply: Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.
Oh all these things going on in my head, this medicine is working.
It's a constant mind numbing painful fight.
Every time I sleep now I dream these horrible dreams.
I can't even remember them in detail.
They are horrible dreams though, I can feel it.
Nothing I can do, but take the medicine.
Become sane again.
Stop being questioned.
Allow the fake to pour in.
Wipe out my whole identity.
Don't forget to smile.
I've been getting better I must say, I can fool myself sometimes.
I'm going to be getting glasses soon.
It's going to stop the excuse of poor vision for hallucinations.
Life will be better when I can actually see people ignoring me.
I've been shaking all day.
This anxiety is a side effect of my new pills.
These tears are side effects of not having something better to do.
My eyes are over dramatic.
My split personality is suicidal.
When I'm done writing this I'm going to put it on Gaia.
I don't know what I'm going to do after that.
I know what will probably be on my mind.
I need a drink.
Oh I got a new catch phrase, "Well hey it's better than heroin."
I thought it was funny when I first heard it.
I'll try, and see how long I can keep it up without me forgetting.
Well this is about three pages. I'm done for today.
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