May 12, 2009

i can still hear your SCREAAAAAAM

what the fuck is this. my best friend, my therapist, my photographer, my narrator… is a drug addict. i wish i could be a drug addict too. i wish i could cheat, and win. i wish i could stop wishing and just go., you know where i want to go? to jacksonville, Fl. to California and Barcelona. but i never will. i won’t even have an album for PROM, i will never be a prom queen. i have to stop talking. all i do is talkity talk talkkkkkkk. i’m the talkinist damned thing you ever saw. i wish i wasn’t so scared. people with fear are absolutely the fuck useless. i worked on soemthing, didn’t i? didn’t i do ANYTHING JUST TO MEASURE UP? nope. i worked on this fast-decaying peice of shit relationship which i go back and forth on loving and hating. crimes of the flesh aid my demise. i still remember, in your car…. you pushing me againt the window. you’re disgusting. but you have more than he has, he is a failure and his best will never be enough. NEVER BE ENOUGH! that’s what we see in each other, that’s why we love each other. we both SUCK! the world doesn’t accept almost.

if i had a million dollars, i’d pay someone to follow me around and take candids. of everything. and drive me through the cities, so i can see life being lived.

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