a_steady_riot

Dear lord, that was one of the most terrifying dreams I've ever had.

It started out rather normal and very movie-esque. I was just walking to walmart when all of a sudden a meteor fell from the sky and crashed into the earth behind wal*mart. At least, that's what the initial reports called it. It turns out that it wasn't a meteor at all--it was a man made star! See, NASA decided to create and launch a man-made star for reasons I just can't comprehend. Days later we heard that it was launched back to earth by aliens, and we were under attack.

The world was in panic, and I guess we had space stations or something because families were evacuating on bus-like space shuttle. Each different space shuttle had a high ranking military official on board, as well as the evacuating families. Mine reminded me of the General from Metalocalypse. Well, we landed at the space station and got out, and walked around to find a television room. There was a sign that said something like "be cautious of asian gangmembers" or something to that effect. We walked down a hallway where the rooms with the televisions were, and each room was full of asians. We walked into one that had only two asian kids in it watching one of the two televisions. My family and I sat around the other television and turned it to CNN. We then saw that there was a sliding glass door between televisions and shut it. The news was reporting that the aliens that were attacking the earth could change their shape to look like asians. idk why. Their true forms were incredibly scary looking to me. They were humanoid shaped with no hair, slimy, somewhat transparent purple skin and six eyes--the top two pair were red and the bottom pair were yellow. They also had long, sharp bottom fangs. Anyway, about that time the asian children in the next room show off their true form and start clawing at the sliding glass door.

An announcement came over the entire station stating that this particular space station was under attack, and there was to be an immediate evacuation. We broke the chairs we were sitting in to use as makeshift clubs and fought our way to the dock. My family and I got seperated in the chaos of all of the frantic people and were on two seperate shuttles. My shuttle was the last to leave. I got a phone call after we left from my mom, telling me she knows what they have to do, and she loves me. Then she hangs up. I start to think "What the hell is she talking about?" but before my thought could even process one of the space shuttles zoomed past mine, full speed towards the space station. Then there was a massive explosion and I now knew what she was talking about. I then started to bawl.

The military official on my ship said not to worry, that I only lost three family members, everyone else on board was an alien. And that my family were heroes. When we landed at the next space station, I found my brother (who was Dave, for some reason) and talked to him about what happened. He just shrugged his shoulders and said "that's what they had to do". I then stare out a window and wonder what's going to happen next. Then I wake up.

I've had far too many flings this Summer. As lame and cheesy as it may sound, I'm ready for something real again.

Its sad to see how many people around me are fucking up their lives, whether I'm close to them or not. Whether I like them or not. But for every one of those people who make terrible decisions and poor choices because they want to, there's a person who try there damndest to make something of themselves. They go off to college, they join the military, they work jobs they hate so that they have money to make ends meet--and they use that money to pay for necessities. They don't squander what little they have on things they don't need. They stop become clean and sober up from the things they previously felt they needed. They turn their lives around.

I know that some of the people I know, and some of the people I care about, will end up in jail--not everyone can suceed. Hell, I know some people who have already gone to jail--friends included. I also know some people I know will end up getting married and starting a family--I also know people who have already gotten married and are working on their families--friends included.
 

I guess coming to these realizations and having these feelings are part of growing up. Seeing all of the success and failure of those that surround me. And now, I think--where do I stand? What am I doing to better myself? What am I doing to better the world? Am I succeeding in life, or am I failing? 
 

Fuck my life,
fuck this world.
Fuck this bitch,
and fuck that girl.


God damn, i'm a poet.

Jesus christ, I was a stupid fucking kid. For some odd reason, I decided it would be fun to go through and read my old livejournal. Its full of angst, grief and idiocy. Most of it was me either talking about how great of a relationship I was having with Samantha, or how terrible she made me feel post break-up. I think I wrote for like two months about how upset I was. Its ridiculous. I also said stupid shit like "badassimus maximus". I think if I could go back in time, I'd beat the shit out of myself. God knows I could've used it.

I also read an entry about how Rachael whatever-her-last-name-is was bi-polar or something, and freaked out on me for agreeing that we wouldn't work out. Christ, that was a ridiculous time in my life. I can't even remember how I met that girl--I want to say it was over myspace. Does anyone know what happened to her? I haven't heard from her in like a year or so.

Looking back, I see that I've learned a lot over the years and that I've changed a lot. I also see that in some ways I haven't changed at all. Either way, I now see why I had very few friends and was always made the bitch of whatever group I hung out in.

Every time I depart from a relationship, or i'm in-between relationships, my goal with the opposite sex (that I don't know) is to "get laid". I say "opposite sex that I don't know" because it would be really weird and uncomfortable to have any sort of sexual relationship with a friend or someone I see more than once a week. The reasoning behind all this is, well, let's face it, sex is nice. It makes you feel good. Sometimes it makes you feel closer to the person you're with (although I doubt anyone I've been with actually produced Oxytosin). If its with someone you don't know, it could be a confidence boost. Either way it physically feels good.

Now, the usual way strangers end up sleeping together is like a math equation. The first parts simple- the two parties have a physical attraction towards each other. Under normal circumstances, the two might get to know each other, talk, and maybe date. Or maybe they wouldn't talk at all--they would just shoot looks at each other all night. But then when you add in alcohol, you throw the rest out. You really don't care much about each other mentally or emotionally--the physical attraction is raging. Then you have sex. Now, this isn't to say that I'm out to bring home random girls, get them drunk while I sip a water and say its vodka, or that I would invite someone over for the sole purpose of getting drunk and sleeping with me. I'm just saying sometimes at parties, or clubs, or shows, two people get drunk and fuck later on that night. This has happened to me recently.

Drinking and sex with a stranger isn't the best thing in the world. I woke up the next morning with someone I didn't know beside me and had a very foggy recollection of the previous nights events. I remembered having sex. That's it. Nothing about how good it was, or what went down. No intimate details. No feeling. Nothing. Usually, when I "get lucky", I feel good the next day, and maybe a few additional days after. Mostly because its a stress relief, and it feels good, and I remember that feeling. Its kind of hard to describe, but I'm sure most of the people reading can relate to feeling good after sex. If anything, I felt kind of bad. Kind of...I don't know, gross? Not a typical feeling a typical guy would have, but I suppose I'm not a typical guy. Then we just parted ways. End of story. To me, it was pointless. Maybe not so then, but I doubt I even really knew what I was doing at the time. I doubt I thought much.

I guess the morale of the story is that having sex while impaired with a stranger isn't something anyone should look forward to, or even want to do. Sex is much better when its with someone that you care about, and a lot better when you aren't intoxicated. Life lesson learned. Now, being high....well, that's a different story for a different day.

Okay, so dropping acid at midnight was a mistake. Not that tripping itself was a mistake, tripping is great. Its just the fact that its 7 AM right now, I'm alone, and I'm tripping. I didn't think it was possible to be sad while tripping, but unfortunately it is. Now, I've had BAD trips before, where I thought I was insane, or dying, or whatever. But I've never been just straight up sad while tripping. It sucks.

And its all from the same generic bullshit that's been upsetting me for the past few weeks. It blows. And I'm not going to be able to go to sleep. There's nothing on TV. There's nothing to do. AND I'M FUCKING TRIPPING! Maybe its because I'm alone. Everything doesn't seem like fun. It doesn't seem like its an adventure wehn you're alone. Yet, at the same time, I'm completely enthralled by the show "Run's House". I mean, its not a great show, but right now I can't do anything but watch it when its on the TV. Like, I'm sucked into it. God damn it, they just showed a sneak peak of next season and JoJo got fucking arrested! And they didn't say why! I guess I could just look on wikipidia. On May 8th, 2009 Joseph Jr. was arrested and charged with Reckless Endangerment, criminal use of drug paraphernalia, and resisting arrest. Man, the more I watch this show, the more Run seems like a dick.

Wow, off on a tangent there. I need to go to sleep so I can wake up and do something. Hang out with people. Not sit here and watch Run's House and ridiculous above the influence and safe sex advertisements that MTV throw out at you now-a-days. Thank god I don't watch MTV. I'm starting to yawn. That's a good thing, right? I've got so much I need to do. And by that, I mean I need to clean my house. Like hardcore clean. I'd say I'd do it now, but I don't feel like doing much of anything right now, aside from sitting here and taking in everything. Just sit here. I did manage to clean my sheets. That's a start. Unfortunately the comforter has to be dried twice and I only had enough for one dry. Ugh.
 

I want to go to a fucking park. Or a beach. Somewhere not overwhelmingly hot too. Fuck the summer.
 

So when I went to the doctor yesterday, I learned I only weighed 140 lbs. I knew it sounded odd, but I didn't really think anything of it until just now. Since I went to the doctor last, I've lost 15 lbs. I'm assuming its mostly been lost in the past month, considering I've felt like shit and my appetite has gone to hell. A lot of days I'd find myself going to sleep without even eating anything. No snack, no candy, nothing. And throughout the whole month, I really haven't thought much of it.

Losing 15 lbs. in one month due to a severe loss of appetite is an incredibly scary thing. Especially considering the reason behind it. Man, that really makes me scared of my future.

Just....wow.

I don't really know what to think about tonight. In some ways it was fucking spectacular, in others it was fucking terrible.

For instance, Chelsea and Jenny came, and were the only two females I knew there (at that point). We all hung out, talked, etc. None of us payed any attention to the first few bands. Then the fourth band played, and they were pretty good. Then Chelsea and Jenny left. And then, because of all of the fucking people at the Alabama Music Box that feel it necessary to make out in front of everyone, I got depressed. Depressed as hell. I just sat on a couch, mildly drunk, and closed my eyes, hoping I would pass out. Hoping I would stop missing her. Mallory came over and tapped me and sort-of made me feel better. She told me I was incredibly cute and told me to come upstairs and meet all of her friends. I sat around for a bit longer, then went and got another drink and walked upstairs and outside on the balcony.

I told Mallory of the terribly ridiculous breakup I had just gone through, and she introduced me to all of her friends. At some point (its all blurry because I'm pretty drunk right now) she pointed out who was single and introduced me to them one on one. It was pretty cool. Mallory is a really cool individual.

So, feeling a little better about myself, I went back inside and waited for the Super Nice Bros. to play. Gallagher came out (although it wasn't actually him) and smashed fruit and birthday cake. I took off my shirt and got covered in that shit. Then the Super Nice Bros. played and I danced with four different girls, all of which were hot as hell. This is the one point where I'm glad I'm single. I even got on the fucking stage and danced (grinded on) with one girl (the hottest of the whole group). It was pretty fucking awesome.

Unfortunately there was no wet t-shirt/boxer contest, or dance contest, or any of those fucking contests. Hell, they didn't even do the raffle where I had bought a raffle ticket. I guess its because only about half of the expected crowd showed up. Fuck Bonaroo. I was totally going to win that wet boxer contest, baha.

 

Right now, I'm not sure how I feel. I'm drunk as hell (I spent approximately $40 on alcohol alone (for other people too--I bought Jenny, Chelsea and one of the girls I was dancing with drinks). I'm content, I guess. Satisfied. I did what I said I would do. I talked to random ass chicks, bought one of them alcohol, and danced.

In all reality, my life isn't that bad. Although I should start applying for jobs soon.

I don't know what the fuck to feel right now.

---------------------------------------------------------------

 

Two hours later and I feel completely fucking terrible. Everyone is asleep but me, its 6 AM, and I can't stop thinking. What could've been, what should've been, what was, what isn't.

Why did things have to turn out like this?
 

I layed around in my bed for about four hours last night because I couldn't sleep. I just layed around in bed thinking, for four fucking hours.

I really wish I could hate you. But for some reason, I can't. I should hate you more than anyone else in the whole fucking world right now, but I just can't. Its ridiculous. Even still I try to find some way to justify everything you've done. Granted, I can't, but I still try. But I guess its better that way--not hating you. I'm pissed and hurt beyond belief though, but I'm forcing myself to move on. Hell, I kind of expected you to do this anyway. I don't know who that says more about--me or you.

I hate to say it, but I still miss you. But I never want to see you again.



Despite being on the edge of being happy, I'm still in limbo. I can hardly eat, and probably wouldn't if I hadn't been around people for the past two days. I can hardly sleep, only drifting off after hours of thinking. I still miss you, I still love you, I can't hate you, I don't want to see you.

When I said life'll get better everyday, I think I meant every day I'm not alone. Because when I'm alone, even if someones in the next room, I just think. Thinking is what kills me.





So you think of what it couldve been
When time is al youve lost
Keeps burning through your head and
Now you fall asleep standing but lie
Awake in bed watch the clock drag on
And think about what you shouldve said

Its for the better
Your better half is gone.
Its ok - you didnt need her anyway.
And I dont want to hear you say
Nobody can take her place
And what more can I say-
You didnt need her anyways.

So you think of how it shouldve been
And its just over
Keeps going through your head.
Youre hearing all those words time & time again
Watch the phone all night
And think about what you shouldve said

Its for the better your better half is gone.

This is the part where I turn my life around completely.

I'm sick of being depressed.
I'm sick of being pissed.
I'm ready to say "fuck it" and be completely happy.

I've adopted a 'I-don't-give-a-fuck' attitude. I'm going to do shit I don't normally do. I'm going to stop being so god damned serious and be a goofy, thrill-seeking adventurer.

For example, the box is doing a "1 year anniversary" thing, and they are going to do shit like dance contests, wet t-shirt contests and wet boxer contests.

If I can talk Ryan into it, we'll do the dance contest. Then i'm going to get my skinny ass up there and let people throw cold water on my dick (while wearing boxers). I'm going to start doing stupid shit like that more.

Today I went to the beach, which is something I haven't done in...three or four years. And my last trip was fucking terrible (beach house incident). This time I had a lot of fun, despite the fact that the drive to the beach was longer than we stayed (closed beaches ftl). I remembered why I hated the sand, and let Dee, Sam and Jenna bury me anyway. Why? Because it was FUN.

Life's going to be so much better now. And I've been sober for two days, although I've smoked like a fucking chimney.

I've completely deleted any trace of you--livejournal, myspace, Wii, pictures, even your phone number from my phone. I'm done with you. You really aren't worth it.

I can't say nothing came from the relationship. Love came from it (not true love, apparently) and I was incredibly happy for those four months. Happier than most people have seen. But I see where you weren't the best girlfriend ever. Regardless, I see that I don't need you to have fun, or to be happy. I have three amazing friends that have been here for me through all of this, and in the past two days they've made me feel almost 100% better.
 

Each day is only going to get better from here.
 

I'm completely fucking miserable--there's no denying that.

But I didn't turn to the one thing I always turn to when I'm upset--alcohol. I drank a little bit of whiskey when I found out, but friends came over and drank and I didn't drink any.

I suppose its because I've finally realized that all that happens when I drink is I get depressed. Then again, I'm pretty depressed right now anyway. I guess I just wouldn't be as depressed if I was drinking. I think I'm going to go to the doctor tomorrow and get back on my anti-depressants. I hated it because I was essentially just a zombie, but this time around it'll be okay. I would rather not feel anything--happiness nor sadness than to be fucking miserable for the next few months.

I guess I'm also going to actually move forward as far as dating goes. I didn't for a while because I thought there was some chance I might actually be with the one person I care about more than anything, but that's gone straight to hell.

I'm not going to say anything mean, but there's no denying that I'm not angry as hell. Like I've said before, and like everyone around me has said and will continue to say, you'll eventually realize what a terrible mistake you're making. Maybe you already have, and maybe you can try to salvage this. Maybe you won't realize until you have nothing and no one left but a meaningless relationship.

Christ, I wish I had never met you.

Red hands.
Bloody fists.
Broken heart.
Anger.
Hatred.
Worthlessness.

 

You made up your mind when you were laying next to him. You saw a bookmark that was a picture of me and felt it necessary to tell me how happy it made you.

You came over today. You told me you were leaving him. You told me you were coming home.  We held each other. You were smiling so much, as was I.

You told me you didn't feel secure with him.
You told me he was annoying.
You told me you weren't yourself without me.
You told me everything felt right when you were with me.
You told me you were ready to be happy.
You told me you loved me so much.
You told me you felt we were meant to be together.

For those two hours, I was so incredibly overjoyed. I felt like I was on top of the world. I saw everything in a different light. I danced, I was so happy. I texted you to see when you were going to be back, because I wanted to go to the store to get mushrooms for our hamburgers and to buy you a rose. Then I got a text.

"I can't do it. I'm sorry. I'm a terrible person. I tried and I can't."

My world once again shattered around me. Everything instantly got darker. I instantly looked at everything differently. To be so fucking happy, and then to have that ripped right out from under you...well, its probably the worst feeling in the world.

Instantly, all the plans I had been making were shattered. The dinner. The rose. The embraces. The kisses. The love.

The plans I had been thinking of us doing over the next few days. Going to the movies with Sam and Jenna on me. Taking you to the beach and renting a hotel room so we could stay all day and night. The plans for the summer. The plans for the future. Gone. Everything's just gone now.

And I still don't understand why.

Why do you put me through this?
Why do you torture me?

Maybe its not you. Maybe its me. Maybe I'm in my own personal hell right now. Perhaps this will just keep happening and keep happening. After all, hell is repetition.

Maybe I've lost my mind.

I know I've lost the will to do anything and everything. The will to survive. The will to live.

And you just keep ignoring me. That's what kills me the most. Knowing that the last time I'll ever see you was when you said you were breaking up with him and you promised you'd be back. Words can not describe how much I loathe myself right now.


 

I guess I've finally hit rock bottom.

Last night, I got drunk. No biggy, I always get drunk. Then Jenna, Dee and Sky came over. Because I was already drunk, I got upset seeing Sky. I drank some more. We talk. I can't remember the whole conversation, but one part stood out because it scared me.
"Don't be mad at me, I did something. It only happened twice."
'Oh god, she cheated on me. Holy fuck....'
"I read you're IM conversations."
'Wait, what?'

I drink more, probably about twice what I originally drank. Probably because I feel like a fuck up. I come inside, laugh at stupid shit with Jenna and Dee (I can't remember what at all), and eventually pass out. This is one of several times I passed out last night.

Then, I had to force myself to crawl into the bathroom to force myself to vomit. If I didn't, I thought I would die. Maybe I was dying, I don't know. I puked, and didn't puke much at all. While I puked, I just had flashbacks of vomiting as a child, all of those times that I was sick. Then I just layed in my bathroom floor.

Sky sort-of tried to take care of me, or at least get me in my bed so she could leave. I couldn't move. I didn't want to move. I felt like I needed to vomit again. I told her to leave. Apparently she thought I meant "get out of my house". What I really meant was "leave the bathroom so I can vomit" because I hate having people watch me throw-up. She knows this.

Puke again, lay on floor. People come check on me periodically. I don't think I was ever really unconcious, I just layed there, listening to the sounds and looking at a box. And thinking, more importantly. I don't know what about, but I was thinking.

I think Dee, or someone, eventually pulled me up on my bed. Maybe it was Jenna, I don't remember. I layed there for what seemed like ten minutes, and came back into the living room. Everyone was gone. I just layed there.

Ryan, Dee and Jenna came back later. I didn't even know Ryan was over. Sky wasn't there. The one person I really wanted to see. I guess that's what love does to you. Fucks you up. Somehow I get back into my bed and pass out. I think it was like 6 AM when this finally happened.

Then I had dreams about getting arrested for providing alcohol to minors. Or not 21-year-old-ers. I thought it was real, until I woke up.

And by doing all of that, I fucked up the whole "Sky and I on talking terms/friends" thing. Not that it would have worked anyway. We were together since the first day we met. That's all we know. We probably can't function as friends.

Christ, what I would give to be completely emotionless.
 

I think I've finally realized why it is that I've been so quick to want to fight lately. Why I've looked for a fight, wanted a fight.

i think in some weird way I want to get hurt. I want to be punched. To bleed. I guess I find myself wanting to convert this emotional pain into a physical one. I want it to be an outlet for my stress and sadness. I want to fight because I don't care. Because I'm looking to hurt and be hurt, I'm not worried about fighting. I'm not scared of fighting. I simply just don't care.

Even if I were to beat the hell out of someone and not get hurt it all, I'd imagine it feeling incredible. Just to see such pain inflicted on someone. To see what I'm capable of. To just completely forget about everything else and lose control.

Maybe I really am losing my sanity.

I feel fucking terrible, and I have no idea what to do about it.


Fuck my life.

I dug this up. I wrote it almost a year ago and I feel the exact same way now. Its been a whole year and I haven't learned a damn thing about myself.





I'm sitting in my one bedroom apartment alone and in the dark. The only sounds I hear are the clacking of my keyboard and the dull hum of my refrigerator. Its 3:28, and I can't sleep. As I was laying in my bed, I had an overwhelming feeling of loneliness wash over me. I don't know why, but at the same time I do.

My reasoning for this feeling is rather simple--the place beside me is empty. I feel as if I have nobody to share this space with, or to share my life with. Yet, in the long run, it really doesn't matter. I know one day I'll get married, have kids and get old. Unless I die before any of that happens. And even then, would that be so bad? Normally I'd say no, but in actuality it is. Its not that I'm afraid of how I'm going to die, but rather the fact that I won't be here. I wish I could be naïve and say I know where I'm going when I die, but I don't. I'm slowly regaining my faith that there is a Heaven, but for now my faith is still cracked and flawed. I don't know where I'm going to go. And that terrifies me. But I will die, and there's nothing I can do to prevent that. Hopefully, if I take care of myself, I will live to fall in love, get married, have children and die old and happy. But there is still that chance that I won't wake up tomorrow. Maybe that's why I can't sleep? If it wasn't bothering me before, it most certainly will now.

Why does it matter who I date now? Why does it matter who I fall in love with now, or talk to now, or cuddle with now? Why does it matter who I have sex with, or how much I have? None of it matters. Or does it? What if the person I fall for next is the person I build my future foundation with?

My mind is racing with conflicting thoughts and my emotions are mixed. What is going on? Why do I feel this way?

I have amazing friends. I have a broken but loving family. Yet I seem to lack something. Maybe its a job, or maybe its the fact that I really have no direction in life. Yeah, I thought I wanted to major in Psychology but I don't really know any more. I don't think about the future, and I don't plan things out. That's my problem--I don't deal with my problems. I just shove them into the back of my mind and live in the moment. I need to find a way to deal with my problems. Maybe I should talk to someone about them, despite having a really hard time opening up to people. I realize that there are people that care about me and want to help me deal with my problems, but I just feel whiny and annoying. Maybe I am. I don't know.

Maybe I should just set a day aside for myself and just deal with all of these problems myself. Maybe that day should be tomorrow. It probably won't be. The fact of the matter is that me trying to deal with my problems will become a problem in itself, and I'll push it aside and ignore it.

Today I was feeling rather upset with society as a whole. The fact that I know someone so horrible and disgusting made me lose my faith in humanity. But a good friend of mine told me "...for every horrible person, there's someone like you who cares about people so much and want things to be different...". That made me realize how much I actually cared, and how much I strive to make life better for others. I don't always succeed, but the point is that I try. There are so many people like me in the world--some try harder, some don't. The point is they try to help. Thanks for restoring my faith in humanity.

Where am I? What's the point of my existence? Is there really a point of me being here other than for the purpose of breeding? Probably not, but I can change that. I will change that. I will make my mark on the world. I'll change at least one persons life, maybe more. I'll find my way to make the world better.

Yet with this newfound optimism, I still feel empty inside. I still have these problems. And i'm still lonely.

Why is it that I see all these great girls in the world--those that seem perfectly compatible with me, yet they've already found their match? Maybe we wouldn't match as perfectly as I think. It makes me feel almost as if there is no perfect match for me. I know I'll be told that there is, but what there isn't? What if I never get married? Or even worse--what if I do get married and then divorce? I don't want that. I want my match. I'm thinking too far ahead, but isn't one of my problems that I don't think into the future? I guess the fact of the matter is that there is no quick fix for this overwhelming emptiness. I'll probably feel like this for quite some time.

Interestingly enough, I usually miss someone when I feel this way. Yet this time I can honestly say I don't care. I can honestly say I want nothing to do with her, and don't care if I see her again or not. Maybe that's a bad thing. Maybe I'd still be friends with this person had we not gotten involved. Doesn't matter now. I have felt every possible emotion for this person, and now my feelings for her are just gone. Empty. I don't care. We weren't as perfectly compatible as I once thought.

Maybe all of this will change when I move, or if I move. I want to live in Seattle, in a high rise overlooking the city. I want a Siberian Husky named Roland. I want a good job. But will I be content? I know of three people that want to move to this place I so desperately want to escape. Is there anywhere that I'll be content staying at? Will I ever be content with life itself at all? I don't know, and that's the worst part. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

Fuck you. In complete seriousness, I'm done with this situation. I'm not going to let you fuck me over like you apparently think its okay to. You've lost every ounce of my respect in you. Everyone ounce of my trust. Is that what you wanted?

If you can put me through this, and do what you did with me, and honestly think its okay, I never want anything to do with you. Hell, if you think its okay to do that to HIM, you're a shitty person. I don't hate him anymore--instead I just feel sorry for him. Yeah, I lied to you twice. I hurt you. Apparently caused you to lose trust in me. But this is a whole different caliber. You know if I knew a little lie would hurt you like it did, I wouldn't have done it. Did you think that this wouldn't hurt me? Were you expecting it to happen again when we were to hang out Wednesday? Were you lying to me when you said you felt better laying next to me than you felt all week?

I'm not going to sit here and write about everything I hate about you, write about how much I despise you right now, write shit about you. I'm better than that. The last time I did that I only managed to disappoint and piss off my friends.

I'm done with you.

I wish I didn't love you. I wish I could fall out of love as easy as you apparently did. But it doesn't mean that I don't hate you, because I do. It turns out that I was right all along about you.

I never want to see you again.
 

I'm turning my life around, getting my shit together, and making myself a better person. This summer is going to be great. My life is going to be great, its going to be better, without you in it.

How am I going to get through this....I can't stay furious because I feel like shit because of it. I can't stay hopeful because its pointless. I don't want to be sad.

Well, I have had three different girls (one attractive, two cute) text/message me. I guess that's a plus.

I couldn't stop thinking about you during this song:

You and me
We used to be together
Everyday together always
I really feel
That I'm losing my best friend
I can't believe
This could be the end
It looks as though you're letting go
And if it's real
Well I don't want to know

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts


Everyone is giving me conflicting advice. Getting mad just made it worse. Being hopeful, after seeing this, just disappoints. There is no getting through this easily. I wish you could see everything I'm thinking. I wish I knew what to do. Fuck this.