Sometimes love just ain't enough.
Can you please don't leave me alone by the roadside, feeling somewhat swallowed by the city lights at 9pm far from home? The thought of looking on at your back blurred with tears in my eyes despairs me more than a slit on my wrist can heal.
No, I will not kill myself.
But give me an incentive to live?
I refuse to waste my life by smoking and drowning my cliched sorrows in alcohol. Don't force me back into the dark hole I lived in during my crescent days.
FUCKING HELL I WANT TO BE ANOREXIC.STICK THIN STICK THIN STICK THIN.
LACE, YOU AND ME.
WE'LL BE 40KG SOON.
AND THAT'S WHEN WE CAN LAUGH AT MEDIUMS AND LARGES.
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There's a SLUT in school whom I told Jed about. And he's sympathetic. That SLUT will get AIDS someday and I hope it eats up that poor excuse for a brain. Oh wait, WHAT EXCUSE?
Sore lack of integrity, airheaded-ness, fucked up mindset and whore-ish ways. These qualities define your person. And a person like you deserve to be gangbanged and left to die in a fire.
Whore.
SLUT.
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I'm an angsty kid. But not one without reason. I have kept stuff inside me for four whole years, if not more, trying desperately to be the nice person that society tried to coerce me into becoming. I
was a nice person. But I don't feel
real anymore. Tonight is one of those nights where I just feel like swallowing Gin to feel my throat burn. I want to drink Heineken to feel as though my life is less bitter than it factually is. I want triple sec just for the kick of it. I want to be cool, I want to be accepted, I want to be happy.
I WANT TO STAB THE RESIDENT SCHOOL SLUT.
But you can't always get what you want. (The Rolling Stones)
I think I should write songs for Hossain's and Narpal's band. I'm so emotional, I really think I should. OR I could take part in Talentime and sing Good Charlotte's songs. I could mock all you suckers who still live in the simple-plan-is-cool era. I could, I should, then I would.
Fuck.
I
need to be happy.
Where's my money?
