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Delusive Perception

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rina

:: 2005 19 September :: 11.05pm
:: Mood: sad
:: Music: j'y suis jamais alle

4am was always our favortie time
we used to talk like this
with twisted words and swirling emotions
the way some talk about houses, cars, jobs
[all that normality, conformity]
we spoke in languages of rebellion
no mention of the past, filled with boyish sighs
jellybean highs
we’re so immature, i think, when we talk about leaving
getting away from it all
when really we’re just separating from each other
late nights of planning, wishing
we’re nearing a breakdown
[nuclear bomb reaction, distraction]
so when you say, lets leave
i say, we need to wait
say, we need a guide during the night
[stars were always my favorite light]
and when you don’t reply i take it as a yes
because you could never disagree with me anyways

sweet words


rina

:: 2005 12 September :: 8.50pm
:: Mood: crazy
:: Music: comptine d'un autre ete: l'apres midi - amèlie soundtrack

pas si simple
i'm so fucked up.
i mean, i am just so maliciously fucked up i hate to think about myself.

i'm going to die one day, and sometimes i wish it would hurry up. its not like i know what to do with life anyways.

and writing things down doesn't ease my frustration. it just sits there, festering in my brain, reminding me of everything i'm frustrated about. just adding onto whatever shit i was thinking at the time.
the written word is hard for me to use now.
its losing its luster.

i think i might need a psychiatrist. but i don't want to be dramatic.
it'll probably fuck everything up even worse.
i need aspirin.

sweet words


rina

:: 2005 5 August :: 3.16am
:: Mood: awake
:: Music: Holland, 1945 - Neutral Milk Hotel

i have been trying and trying to update, but work and life and, ultimately, computer malfunctions have made it impossible.

i promise i'll read up on everything i've missed, and try to comment on your latest entry with everything that's been happening in your lives. :)

sweet words


rina

:: 2005 15 July :: 10.49am
:: Mood: restless
:: Music: two sides/monsieur valentine - spoon

its a celebration of the deceitful
ophelia, her eyes like ebony
she was full of whiskey
in a ragged dress with the color missing

ophelia, she glanced at amber liquid
and wondered how she could fix it
when life became, oh, so wicked

well she counted her way backwards from ten
and pretended not to be so frightened
but ophelia, she was terrified of what could happen

she seemed stretched so languidly
and thought the world was still darkening
and ophelia, she waited for the grand finale

the world's fading, she says
too many deaths and not enough savings
but she didnt care enough to walk towards neon lights

because ophelia, her eyes like ebony
she was full of whiskey
with a tattered dress that seemed to be missing

5 whispered | sweet words

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