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HollishDanishM (profile) wrote, on 7-29-2004 at 8:07pm | |
Music: the deafening silence Subject: My Wasting |
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I just crave to write. My only friend. Everytime I'm about to write, I check when I last wrote. I have no life, why pretend as if I am too busy to write in this thing. Cause I'm not. No one has a fairy tale life. But I'm such a waste of perfectly fine soul, body, and spirit. I'm taking up all the good air everyone else should be enjoying. I wait for the minutes to pass infront of me, so aware of time, it's almost sickening. I await better times, and I await times to look forward to. My life is like Las Vegas, you never know whether you'll win or lose. I wish I was a bubble, I wish I could just pop. I'm so sick of living. |
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whispers-to-a-scream | 07-31-04 6:58pm We're all sick of living, but we have to hold on. I don't mean to sound like a therapist or anything, But, I'm for real.
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whispers-to-a-scream | Re:, 07-31-04 10:39pm "Isn't it ironic how a stranger, as nice as the stranger might be, is the one to make you feel better, instead of your so-called "friend"?
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