May 2013
92 posts
“When you ask me to describe fear I say my mother
smelling vodka on my breath...”
– Superheroes, Clementine von Radics (via youuidiotkid)
I
Fucking
Hate
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I told you from the start that I would be here
I can’t sleep
And for once, I feel as if that is my fault
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I wanna have a beer with Satan and let him take me the fuck home already
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I am inconceivable.
I am invisible.
I am immortal.
Living Room Sessions With A Finger In Cast
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Today is beautiful
nonewilldie:
everyone fuck off
seriously
Lets all just go jump in a depthless lake
Please?
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thesidewalksleepersweeper:
“Go to sleep things will be better in the morning”, is a common phrase. I have yet to understand how they believe the morning light and dew on the grass will change this feeling I have eating away at my heart making me cringe.
I wake up in the afternoon so I miss those morning things that are promised maybe that’s why mind mind is always filled with sadness...
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I realized last night
That I have never really been “in love”.
I thought I was. Honestly believed it. But I couldn’t have been. The feeling I associate with just the thought of the word “love” I have never felt from another person. At this point all my beliefs in love have been misconceived. I don’t know what it is. I’ve never been in it. I’ve never felt it.
I’m okey with this.
I’ll be fine. Sever this for all time. I’m gonna laugh this all of in the end. You can just go get high with all your dumb friends
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I hope that you see me.
I know you’ve looked at me.
Glanced at me.
Perhaps even thought of me.
But I want you to see me. Glare into my eyes and search. Past the stories you have heard of a loud voiced boy that gets to angry to quick. Past every scar I have for every year of self destruction and desolation that I have somehow survived through. Past all of these things, that I never...
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Nothing else fills.: i spend forever in bed
in... →
nonewilldie:
i spend forever in bed
in sheets of thought
in paper houses
filled with writing, or
if i am productive,
none at all
i spend forever in
my cowardice
and dreams of
writing
and stealing
manipulating
and hurting
i spend my days
in forever
a process that feels like sleep
…
When strangers write things that fit me exactly.
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Black death. 1349
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nonewilldie:
i wont get close enough to have you
just a few inches, lingering
hovering like a fly over your skin
sweet, like a flower
cold like your heart
i wont get close enough to have you
just intimate talk which consumes
but leaves no solace,
no means for an end
just close enough to
want you
yet far enough
to still feel lonely
but, that’s how it always is
with...
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I know exactly where I am. Somewhere between making love and being friends.
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Marry me john. I’ll be so good to you. You won’t realize I’m gone.
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I think my head is going to explode
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I’m very uncertain if I will ever get them though
Sad Cat Diaries →
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I want specifics on the general idea
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Someone feed the monkey
