Facebook me: look @ me na
Twitter me: “started from the bottom na I’m here”
Tumblr me: “I walk the line”
Between smart and dumb
Legal and justified
Janky and swanky
I never feel 100% certain. But I believe in myself. And I believe in yourself. And I believe that two people can create a new reality together. That support is all the difference for someone truly attempting to walk the line.
Most people never have to wonder, why me, why do I deserve to be happy? But I have asked myself that question every day and at the end of the night I know now… nobody deserves it more. Nobody deserves it less. The founding fathers knew what they were doing when they wrote the constitution, and we should respect that shit like the Bible.
May 17
That familiar feeling is set in my stomach. The nausea is heavy like a lead blanket covering my mind and body. I’ve unwound too far and they’ll never fix me. Like a broken slinky.
Its the drugs. They warned me about drugs. I was always wary but then I looked around me… everyone seems broken. I don’t know how to function anymore. I think back to my childhood and they believed I could have been somebody. Do we expire like old milk?
I puff on whatevers clever and pretend it doesn’t burn. If I stopped, how would I express my death wish? I already died, a coward and a cheat. Losing is just so miserable. Winning doesn’t even seem worth it. Who wants more of me in the world?
There’s a high pitched noise emitting from a dying star halfway across the universe and only I can hear it. We have the same birthday give or take a few million lights years but we never knew each other until this final moment. The end of an ancient behemoth and the beginning of the middle of my life.
Commonplace events in the grand scheme of things. It happens so slowly you’d never notice until you’re already caught in the shockwave. Vague metaphors lap against my consciousness until I’m off my rocker without a clue. Things fall apart. I never read to book but sometimes I stare at the most mundane thing and know its true.
May 10
There’s this scene in the vampire diary where Stephan and Elena go to the ever popular plot dvice - the lakehouse. They are opening the doors for the first time since her parents died and just enjoying themselves. Stephan throws on this checkered blazers and she laughs, your in my grandads clothes!
Freeze frame ; side note
This is where Macklemore took over my mind. I wear ya granddad’s clooothes, I look incrediblllleeeee.
O yeah baby
May 9
It is ungodly to tweet or post fb statuses at this hour. AVERRYONE WILL SEE RIGHT THROUGH ME. I WILL BE CAUGHT BETWEEN THE DUSK AND A HARD PLACE.
Ya feeeeeel me
May 9
"Everything you know, every belief you have is about to change. Are you ready for that?"
- Stephan from the Vampire Diaries
May 7
Or as we in the scientific community call it, The Innernette. It is a vast Terrain of digital information in size and spread so great it is unimaginable. I am good with computers. As long as they do my bidding. Otherwise I might turn it into a coaster.
Anyway. I sucked at socializing as a kid. One of my good friends drew a picture of me as the goodyear glimpse farting in 5th grade and I realized nobody liked me. Nobody. I was like strong emotionally or I had no other option so I forgave them but I have never forgotten or talked about it till now.
I made some sick friends online though. Maybe through livejournal or dead journal I just found people who related to my horribly spelled cries for help. One was this awesome goth British dude. I talked to him on the phone and he welcomed me into his family. I knew all about his adopted brothers and sisters. Our family had a sick webpage with pentagrams and blood and Oracle of Filth blaring oh yeah 2002 clipart mediafire style.
One day he finally admitted he wasn’t British but I told him it was okay I knew all along ( …. nope) and we were family no matter what. We really don’t talk much but we are still family and thanks to the Innernette I can still keep up with him and share this story with you fucks.
“They were quiet, they kept to themselves. They didn’t like my big pink novelty dicks.” Thank you, random Bostonian being interviewed by the BBC about the bombing suspects, thank you for bringing a small amount of joy into this horrible day. Without you, today would have been entirely free of awkwardly placed dildos, or possibly giant pink joke water bottles, and we would have no one to laugh at. But you, you noble bastard, you have given us someone to mock, someone to laugh at, and something to help us momentarily forget the horrors of this week. Thank you, you awkward little weirdo. Thank you.
