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this journal will no longer be updated publicly. you can take me off of your friends list or whatever, it's now private...something to help me pass these last years.
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6 bangs - shoot me
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i have a sweet ass...
that is all.
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shoot me
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Wednesday, June 5th, 2002
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you're dead; [ Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<a [...] <a>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.] <small>you're dead; <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/~mymemoriesofyou"<a>love</a>!
add me, if you feel the need-if not, don't mind these words.
goodbye [come visit; don't forget that i exist] |
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shoot me
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i saw arland today. it had been a long time since i had seen him; i think he avoids a haircut like he avoids bathing, now. no no, that was harsh, though i don't know if it is untrue. he explained to me all about his journal being friend's only, and the shit that it got him into at school. he said that the principal read all about his jokes about wanting to fuck some teachers, and nathan was going to get his ass kicked by some big guys after class one day for calling janelle a bitch, or something. arland then looked at me and said, "but she is a bitch." it was funny shit, at the time. now i don't know why i laughed. i got in his car and listened to kill your idols, or something. old punk shit. hah. i wanted to break out a leather jacket and some hair glue. sadly, luke wasn't around. no no. that was mean. sorry luke.
end; i'm going to watch a girl movie for the second time tonight, because i love it with a fucking passion//
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2 bangs - shoot me
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matt is selling me the ephiphone sg for 90-100, he said. score!
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2 bangs - shoot me
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you're gone...
hopefully the busy signal will not make my ears throb next time.
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shoot me
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as i sit here, with nothing to do, i think. think about nothing in particular; basic thoughts that run through my head everyday. i wish something would jump out and let me spill my heart and soul about it. lots of potentials; many must be kept confidential--many. so these things cannot be wrote nor spoke about with the outside world. i just wish once that i could lift up the shield that holds it all back, and just spill it all. but i'm afraid i can't do that. shock would fill everyone through and through. my heart is pounding right now. i haven't figured out why; my head is telling me two different things--do it, and don't. if i did start off, i wouldn't stop. trust me, i could type until the keys on this keyboard were no more. evaporated into my fingertips with the many mixed emotions i live with.
i'm confused in ways; what am i doing with my life right now? throwing it all away? ruining it? setting it up to be ruined in the near future? or optimism could take its toll and ask, is my life near perfect? i am confused by each of these questions. boards run through the middle, making each side have different thoughts, and not one thing can be neutral. and so it's nights like these that make me think. think think think. tomorrow when i wake, everything will be fine, and the sun will be burning my eyes; just like it was today when i awoke. don't worry, i'm fine.
i do this all of the time.
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2 bangs - shoot me
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the hives played an hour when i thought they were only supposed to play for thirty minutes. beyond holy.
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3 bangs - shoot me
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i believe annie needs sleeping pills from the looks of things. i told her to sleep well before she got offline last night [it was fairly early when she got offline], but i think she may have not received it. i slept fine, after i watched a bunch of re-runs of msnbc investigates on ocd and serial killer artwork collectors.
right now, i'm getting ready to go to louisville. the ride up there always sucks. i'm hungry, too.
i'm glad you liked the anniversary.
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2 bangs - shoot me
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i hate being lied to.
it fucked up everything, not just one little thing.
i felt stupid when she told me no, i knew you were lying when you told me about it. now, she thinks that i believe you over her. it's a colossal mess. i'm out of it. it will be hard to trust you anymore, but we can still get wasted.
truly yours;;
[done;edit]
annie is burning our constant concern, and i'm getting designing a nervous breakdown burned. we're making a trade. anyway, mates of state and the anniversary have this thing about them; they seem to me to have a similar sound, or maybe it's just the girl and keyboards. i'll never know.
[just learn from your mistakes and keep picking yourself up off of the ground. it'll be grand to learn, with all of my honesty;;]
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shoot me
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i heard the get up kids on a local station today. oh no. my sister swears that dashboard confessional and jimmy eat world come on the radio all of the time. i wonder why weezer gets no airplay when they're kicking up the mtv air? mysterious. karly's german paintings were lovely; "pinkerton" and annie.
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shoot me
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i have a feeling that this week is going to be long; very long and stressful.
weezer is playing a festival show in japan with guns and roses. i love it. heh. rivers fits in with furry rock'n'roller's now. his guitar skills have progressed enough to be in a metal band and throw down dirty guitar solos, also.
and as of now, my habit is falling apart. i'm so happy, and iffy about the situation. i hope i don't go back, and can control myself when i do. five to go, then i'm done; only on special occasions. and i'm off to a new start...
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1 bang - shoot me
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my brother just got in trouble for saying fuck. oh fuck, that's hilarious.
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shoot me
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happy birthday [ Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<a [...] <a>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.] <small>happy birthday <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/~pipedreams"<a>pipedreams</a>.
[thank god for modification.]</small> |
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2 bangs - shoot me
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and it's at this age where things begin to build upon each other, and monontonous links are formed to make a chain. regrets literally choke me to death. one big regret still holds at my head, shaking me when i begin to get stupid; and it truly saves me. i never thought that things like this would grow out of control, but it bombards everyone...one subject is always the talk; always distracting others that are pleading, but no one understands. it can always feel wonderful to find something that no one else paid any attention to.
[if you don't understand--i do.]
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shoot me
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i just got home from jordan's. i stayed there for two nights. it feels good to be home, if i only i could go back to sleep. i think it irritated jordan that i could sleep all day on a couch, when he was getting up really early. i guess he didn't want to wake me up; i wouldn't have minded because it was his house. we didn't have any adventures, nor any passing motorist rapes. we went out for like five minutes last night; we just laid on the trampoline while we were waiting to cook a pizza. i think he has to go to a wedding today. now, i'm really hungry and tired; i'm still too lazy to do either. oh well...i'll starve to death and die without any sleep.
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shoot me
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a nice blanket of insects crawling over my skin. now we can visualize the racing thoughts throughout my head. the light is out, where is the door? i think i may as well be dead; being stuck with these unattractive lovers is not worth speaking out against, nor fucking the exterminator for.
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2 bangs - shoot me
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jeremiah is occupied playing tony hawk with a guy skating around in a fisherman's hat. he is really enjoying himself. he is now screaming at jordan's dad to get him something to eat. very hungry kid. jordan is doing the voice-over for a documentary ['you getting on the bus motherfucker?' and 'your whole fucking ass is taking up the whole fucking bus.']
time to eat.
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shoot me
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we went to the game thing last night. we sat in front of drunk guys. we mainly listened to them talk about hot nuts and jordan's dad being an umpire. good stuff...oh well--
i'm at god's house. i probably won't be home again tonight. if i am, you can thank dwayne for my ride home. [hrmmmm...only jordan and i understand that one, i do believe.]
--dwayne did me.
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shoot me
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i'm ready. i just called jordan, and his dad said he was getting ready to take a shower. so, now i'm not the one who is running late! woof!
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2 bangs - shoot me
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a_fallen_heart's journal