Live | eviL

The amount of job applications I’ve filled out must number in the hundreds by now.

I’m so tired of being bored. I need a job. Any job.

I do not want to go back to school without a job and be broke and stressed out for the next year.

Fucking pass out drunk for two hours, but I can’t sleep before or after? Why the fuck won’t this feeling of pain go away? Fucking Christ I hate my life.

I don’t know how much longer I can cope with this. Everything hurts. I have to go pretend I’m normal and see friends, but I don’t want to move. I want to sleep, but I haven’t been able to sleep more than an hour or two in days.

Of course. The first day I don’t have any dope, literally ten different people decide they need some.
Here I am vomiting and in so much pain I can’t sleep now… I hate my life. I really fucking do.

Arguing about someone accusing me of stealing their dope has stressed me out to the point where I did the last of my dope.

Fuck you for blaming me.

The only reason I haven’t died from over dosing is because everytime I nodd off, I start to bite my lip or tongue.

The longer I’m asleep the harder and harder I begin to bite.There’s been quite a few times where I wouldn’t have woken up without doing this, where I wake up with blood in my mouth and I’m gasping for air, physically forcing myself to breathe from respiratory depression.

We teach ourselves the strangest things under the strangest of circumstances…

And on a completely unrelated note: I’m never going to stop loving you, I miss you so much, and I’m craving you in so many fucking ways right now that it’s making me want to chop my dick off and rip my heart out… Woo for love…

Kinda drunk, kinda high, kinda horny, kinda shy.

I refuse to use my cellphone while I’m in this state of mind,
so please leave me alone.

Haha. Now I just had another one, but instead I was starting a lawn mower. So I woke up in the middle of this dope dream, just as I was pulling the rip cord on the motor for the Lawn mower and I yanked my PC’s mouse and threw it behind me.

That was insane.

Well that was depressing. When you nod out sometimes you have incredibly vivid dreams even though you’re still awake for the most part, maybe they’re technically more of a hallucination. I’m not really sure.

But I just had one of these for the past hour, one these dope hallucinations, while nodding out in my computer chair. I shut my eyes and I just imagined my ex-girlfriend was still here and we were talking about going out with friends and it turned into “I just wanna do whatever you wanna do” kind of back and forth conversations….

And then I opened my eyes…
and I was alone.
Oh well.

Doctor Who is probably the most overrated piece of mainstream crap I’ve ever watched. =_=

My old job just realized how badly they fucked me over and sent me all the money I’ve been missing in a check.

Turns out they’ve only paid me about half of what they were supposed to so I just randomly got a check for a couple grand.

Fuck the government and how unorganized they are. They’re supposed to be the definition of organization.

[u]
Confusion and Cold Fusion.[/u]
Ugh,
lingering memories, a fog sloshing around the back of my psyche. Amidst this mist I reminisced; remissed to deny how overwhelmingly písseð and with heartstrings in a twist. Each emotion tied to every annotation is, from first to last, a recollection of the past, scattered and cast into a scarcely viable excuse of a proper list. The amount of regrets sufficiently sets the mood; a mess of emotional debts, wagers and bets where good will becomes a commodity,— and I’ve fallen into poverty,— and now we are no more. Emotional vacancy, awful connection latency, I lag behind. So patiently I wait to see just how I can reach point A from point B. This is obviously (such is hypocrisy) not a very fitting representation of wisdom. My logic turned for the worse, it took a turn came to a dead end fast, it’s staring at a back alley wall, [i]’cause [/i]to do anything is better than nothing at all.
Surrounded on all fours, or rather on all sixes, by the concrete of a metropolis’ voice citing: [i]I am all of this, this is how I exist.[/i] Embody logic like an architect. A tower so high, but rusting and bent. A taste of ashen soul, bile-pigment; tar, asphalt, and crumbling cement. A misleading lullaby, such is my lament, a whisper of weather-bronzed girder, hiding it’s torment. An act so tryingly exhausting to tower a tower’s shadow and precedent. Echoing years prior before falling to ruin, a steel angel earth-sent; a Behemoth’s generation-long descent from fable and fiction, a rediction meant to catalyze tragedy, as a piece of reality grabbed hold of the idea before it became an event.
I lost my imagination, my childish immortality. I lost the keys to my future, I lost that part of me. I broke it mistakenly, well— admittedly slightly intentionally, and then lost the pieces of her broken heart in plenty. Without her, without me, there’s nothing left to see beyond this scrapyard of broken dreams.

I want to unlearn all the hate for myself I have. How do you do that? I’ve spent so long romanticising tragedy and my depression. I feel like every time I explore who I am I always come up empty handed. I feel like I’ve turned myself into the sadness I used to obsess over, that I am the best written disparity I’ll ever write and I’m a pathetic mess that I had hoped someone would find as beautifully tragic as I found everything then.

I want to unlearn. This isn’t living, but life is here somewhere.

I don’t think people appreciate just how powerful the human mind is.

We mirror everything we experience, we embody every thought that passes through our brain. We exist. We imagine.

You alter your reality by the train of thought you set into motion, because our experiences are just how we perceive reality and how we choose to interact with it.

We’re detached, but we’ve never been more intertwined or involved.
We’re separate from the world we’re apart of.
We can look within ourselves, we can question ourselves, our actions, our views.
We can reject reality, or we can embrace it.

Mirror neurons, man. Just by hearing someone laugh, you can’t help but smile. Think of someone you love laughing or telling a story, and tell me you won’t smile just from the memory.

Happiness is just as fleeting, but just as real. If only to hold on to that happiness.

That state of being content with being removed, but applied. With being alone in a sea of people. With being alongside everyone you will ever love.

I’m reflecting the image that I want to receive. I’m rejecting transparency or opaqueness. I want to live in the light for once, so I have to act like someone who belongs there. I do belong there. I was born (t)here.

Cast from my garden like once I was—
another time comes to mind.
Paradise existed only because
the crime of calling you mine.

We both bit the apple then knew it wasn’t true;
so here’s to our happiness—
know I didn’t ask for this—-
it’s gone along with you.

Buh Bye… Again.

I’ve seen heaven and stand above, because here is where it fell.
My doom and gloom fits like a glove, such armor suits me well.
I’ve gained freedom and found love. I’ve fought back my own personal hell.
Here, on earth, is where paradise exists, but which direction it lay I can never tell.