a_steady_riot

i tell you i'm boring and doing homework, you wanna come over anyway.
does that mean you like me? i can't tell. i don't want to trust you.
fuck bad seeds, man. i could love you, but i don't think i ever will.


my family makes me really sad.
i pity every single one of my siblings.

i just slept for 13 hours straight, and i feel WONDERFUL.

Yesterday, I had a seizure.
I couldn't remember my own birthday as I rode to Gulf Coast in an ambulance.
But I remember the concern in your eyes and the love in your voice as you escorted me the best you could to safety.

Thank you.

You want the truth?
You want me to lay words at your feet,
that I know someone else will walk through?
To climb willing through your bed,
without even pausing in your thoughts?
You want the truth?
You want me to say how I'm jealous,
over something that isn't mine to be jealous of?
To try and pretend that this awkward dance,
isn't something I've been rehearsing half my life?
You want the truth?
You want me to stand and scream,
"I'm sorry, I know it's too late, but please--?"
To only have worked myself to a heart ache,
that never happened?
You want the truth?
You want me to tell how I take comfort in your form,
while selling mine to shame?
To lay beneth hands that tremble with the memory,
of someone else?
You want the truth?
You want me to perform the glances,
I know from memory?
To drop my gaze only when they are met,
with eyes that no longer speak?
YOU WANT THE TRUTH?
THE WHOLE FUCKING TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT IT?
Then,find it , you fucking bastard.
Go ahead.
I won't say a word.
Because, everything I hold true,
is everything you wrote.
Like lines in a script,
I'm just reciting the world you lead me to.
Playing the part you cast,
with pink dress and white shoes you throw me,
from some discarded pile labeled "you should have known."
Truth wrpped in ribbons and lace?
Ah, there it is,
the simple truth,
something I found on my own.
Oh, my god, what have I done?
Oh, my god, I have have known.

I'm sitting on my porch in the middle of December, chain smoking and preparing my short story for submission to a few literary magazines.


God, this is a life I could get use to.

LOL




.
i hide from you behind convincing faces
but you see right through like they don't exist
how do you do what you do?
i'm not quite used to it,
it makes me awfully uneasy in fact;
i want you to like me
but you know me too well already.
so i know you never could.
still, we act like friends.
i do enjoy your company.
maybe this is nothing but my paranoia gone awry.




christmas break is coming fast and i just want to get drunk.


contact through computer.
broken voice and a sprinkle of hostility.
shouldn't this be the contrary?
shouldn't we be on opposite sides of this emotional spectrum?
my mom's different.
i hate it.
-



one of the worst feelings in the world
is remembering you.
dread and sorrow and longing, all crunched together,
in my chest and pulling my heart into pieces-
am i ever going to get there again? ever?
am i ever going to care enough?
i miss you..


my mind is restless nowadays.
end of the year anxiety.

My media player just glitched at the part of "Lua" where it says "simple in the moonlight."
Instead of going on, it repeated "pull in the moon" for a good thirty seconds before shutting down.


I may or may not be making meaning where there is none.
But, oh my god, what a beautiful moment.

everything fucking sucks right now.
i need my car back because i don't have any friends that i can depend on to take me everywhere i need to go. and i need a job because i'm using my mom's/grandpa's money to buy christmas presents. i missed too many days of school and now i have to go to fucking court. and i'm sitting at home every fucking day on facebook when dave or lindsey can't hangout with me because there's nothing else to do. charlie's an asshole and won't let me turn on the fan in MY room because of my niece, so i wake up sweating every night like 20 times. i just want to run away.

I wonder if this is how Joan of Arc felt.

Moderately liberated and self-righteous.

if you only knew what people said about you.



if only! if only you had ever cared, even a bit.
caution: please watch your step.
tripping hazard.
and excuses, while they may ease your internal pain,
turn your sins into mistakes,
leave acquaintances unaware of your disastrous personality,
excuses wouldn't heal that broken leg of yours.
the best lies you'll ever conjure won't do that.


so tell me, darling, how does it feel,
knowing everything you live for is based on lies you've spit?

today's one of those days where i wish sleep came easily.

If I was a rock,
you were the tide.


Sculpted and raw.

It's Wednesday night and my mom's out on a date.
With Doug, but a date none-the-less.
Me?
I'm at home.
By myself. Chilling.
I'm twenty. She's forty-seven.
Tell me where the justice in THAT is.

To be honest, it's hard to remember the last time I was on a date.
Maybe, MAYBE, it was when I first met Brain.
Valentine's Day. Junior Year.

..fuck me.

I want to go to dinner and a movie.
I want to go to dances and step on my date's toes.

I want to start exploring people before I fall in love with them.

I want to be romanced...honestly.
Not, omgdestiny romances.
Just simple, not-Hollywood based attention.


Is that so much to ask at twenty years old?

I'm not sure why I feel like an old maid.
I'm more on my way to cat-lady status everyday.

i
am
going
to
throw
up

I write private livejournal entries to give people a challenge.

This is what love is.

i probably couldn't be happier right now in this relationship.
or in life. which really doesn't make a lot of sense because everything else right now sucks. like i have one friend who hangs out with me and i have no phone for two weeks and no car and i'm sleeping with a 2 year old every night which causes me to get no sleep at all. but all of that is okay for some reason. i'm pretty fucking content. and i love it. and i love you, dave cole.