I just finished a book.
No. I didn't write it. I wish I had. But I wouldn't want that to be inside my head.
Such A Pretty Face - Cathy Lamb.
It cut to my very core. And I don't really have friends I can talk to about it. Or family. My best friend and sister moved to Baltimore to be with a man. And I can't say anything because I almost moved to Utah for a man. And then I almost moved to Michigan for another. Hello, hypocrisy.
I don't have anything to say. I just had to say all this nothing to get it out of me.
I got my promotion... Seven months late. But no complaints, I'm glad it worked out, if only because they needed it to. Wal-Mart... Oh Wal-Mart. Silly, chaotic place.
Um... McDonald's sweet tea is killer. That's about the only reason I ever go there. <3 it.
::
2009 17 November :: 10.37 pm
:: Mood: discontent
Who's the one that made you happy
Who's the one that always makes you laugh
Who's the reason you're smiling
And dragged you through these times so rough
I was the one that made you happy
I was the one that eased the pain
But I'm the reason that you're crying now
My own tears scattered by the rain
You can sacrifice me
You can sacrifice me
You set me free
You can be who you wanna be
Deeper than deep you took me on a trip baby
You shared your wildest dreams and more
You dare me to express my feelings to you
I never felt that need before
But suddenly you needed freedom
You felt the need to break free
You started drowning in your sorrow
You didn't wanna know I had the key
You can sacrifice me
You can sacrifice me
You set me free
You can be who you wanna be
You can sacrifice me, sacrifice me
You can be who you wanna
You can be who you wanna be
Discarded thoughts.
For some stupid reason, I find myself in love with nothing other than sadness. Trust me, I'm not proud.
It is so cold today, has been all week. Usually October still holds the heat of the setting sun of summer. It's usually a disappointment from when i was a kid and seasons were definite. But this one is right. It feels much later in the year. and the smells...
I open the windows and I'm fifteen again.
not ashamed of who I am
but maybe a little sorry for
who I was before I stopped the
facade, hiding in who you wanted
me to be, that porcelain image in
your bed, in your head, in your beautiful eyes...
I was something else before
I realized that I'm not waiting
for someone to rescue me,
I'm just waiting for me to
stop needing
rescued.
sometimes, I feel claustrophobic inside my own body.
sometimes, I wish I could open the door to find myself standing there,
give counsel,
have a drink,
whatever.
hear what I'm thinking from my point of view.
open the door, "hey, been trying to meet you.
there must be
a devil between us."
it's funny how
being broken
into a thousand tiny pieces
can feel so good.
a chapter finished,
the typewriter
slammed back
to start a new line.
::
2009 3 August :: 5.05 pm
:: Music: Beg - Evans Blue
My love of Twilight probably puts me into the percentile range of obsession/13-year-old-overweight-girls-with-tiny-tees-and-black-and-blond-hair.
/sigh.