Sunday, September 04, 2005

It always ends up this way.

My life's nothing but a wreck, some complicated bullshit which probably takes days to explain to others. I hate it when I'm the guy to indulge in all that joy and laughter, and being excluded from the woes. I hate it.

< bitchfit+sarcasm >
Oh oh oh, so what if so and so likes me, and this and that and that and this and whatever the fuck? Does it matter? If you think I enjoy the faggort attention, go fuck the wall. And if that's not enough, go fuck yourself. Get a dildo and stick the shit up your candy ass. If you think it's fun being me, oh well, you're more than welcomed into this bloody damned life I lead.
< /bitchfit+sarcasm >

Yeah so what if I'm in pain? I am what you make me out to be. My heart breaks when yours aches. It bleeds when you weep. And when I feel your agony, you crying out for the glimpse of hope, my heart just shatters. It feels like it's cracking a little by little, fragments dropping down the fucking dark pit. It hurts, but it's like anybody gives more than half a damn. Like anybody understands.

You don't owe me anything, and everything I've given you have no strings attached. They're unconditional and absolutely voluntary. Neither do you have to make it up to me. I don't need anything more. Anything forced is anything artificial. Anything artificial never lasts. I'd rather you be mean, than love and lie. I'd rather hear the truth, and have to say goodbye. But baby, don't break my heart slow. Don't.

"I've never liked to fight for attention. You either give it to me, or I walk away."

Neither do I.

And I'll walk away. I promise.

Don't want to be the last to know
Don't want to be the one to chase you
But at the same time your the heart that I call home
I'm always stuck with these emotions
And the more I try to feel the less I'm whole
My tears are turning into time
I've wasted trying to find a reason for goodbye.

SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME IT'S OVER. TELL ME IT'S OVER. TELL ME IT'S OVER... Tell me it's over... Tell me...

I guess that at the end of the day, I still have to find the strength to accept somebody else. But then again, I think I'm sick of this sick cycle carousel, this brand new carousel. It never exits from my life.

And till it does, I will be alone.

As painful as it is, I still love you all the same. Goodbye.

posted@9:08 PM

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