Monday, March 30, 2009

DOES NOT COMPUTE!!!

wtf! she's short and fat and stretch-marky and that's just the physical stuff! she's a horrible person on the inside, and what's more is you know it, you used always be telling me about it!! i don't understand! i'm slightly less short, skinny, not stretch-marky and i'm lovely on the inside (believe it or not, from reading this blog...) i don't understand. look at you! why would you have her when you could have had me? a blind man could see i'm millions of times better than her in every way! i starved myself and lost two stone, and you run off with a girl who weighs two stone more than i did in the first place?! that's a big boo-boo on your part. wow, what a trade down, lucky you, at least i can say you deserve each other, still, if you could have had a girl you didn't deserve why didn't you?! at least i was right when i said that once you'd have me, you could only trade down. what's that coming over the tracks...? oh, and she goes on and on about her eating disorder. i'm sorry, but have you ever seen a 12-stone anorexic? please!

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

"i didn't get your list of correct answers" "really cause i posted it last week"

i wish i could take this away from you, i wish i could buy it from you and take it myself instead. i just want you to be
happy, not because that's good for you, that's just a nice side-effect. no, i just want attention from you, i want you to
love me again, something you can't do while your heart is broken.

i'm sick and tired of the fact that you still exist somewhere. i wish your memory would go away, it's boring me now.

losing you hurts more than words could ever, ever explain. it's beyond agony, it's a million miles beyond torture, but i
keep smiling, not because i'm two-faced. i can be happy and sad at the same time. i can be thinking and remembering at the
same time as keeping my mind blank and blocking out memories. i miss you so much. i need you so badly. i want you back more
than i want my next breath, and i wouldn't think twice about sacrificing my lungs just to be with you. but i can't be with
you, because you don't exist anymore. oh, there is a body double walking about, but he's not you on the inside. i don't
know where you've gone, but i don't want to trust the instinct... the conviction that he is never coming back. it's over,
and you're gone. i love you so much. i would honestly give anything, do anything, pay ANY price to get you back.

Monday, March 16, 2009

one clean week now

one clean week and two days. i can't believe it's only been nine days, it feels like years and years since i last spoke to you. it's not getting any easier, in fact it's getting harder and harder. i need desperately to hear your voice, but it's pointless because the person speaking won't be the same you who i loved.
give me one good reason why i should give up on you. i know i can do so much better but why don't i want to? and why do you want me to? all the paths i walk head straight for you, no matter which way i turn i'm on your road again, i'm outside your house again, pretending like nothing's wrong. it's pointless, we both know that everything is hideously wrong, it's seeping from every pore in our bodies like a jet black stinking tar. i just want to escape this endless cycle but the path i'm walking is a roundabout. the path i'm walking is a maze and i can't run away. i just want to run away, but the faster i run the quicker i get to you. i'm faced with a dead end. i'm faced with your face. i was in love with you. i am in love with you. maybe one day you'll be in love with me. the farce that was our love is over. i'm in a much better state than i was when there was still hope for us. i hate being so hopeful, so optimistic, i only get disappointed. i knew what you were like. i knew you'd do this to me. and still i danced down your path. still i risked it all for what i knew would be a fall. i wanted to fall. i wanted us to fall. i was sick of trying to fly while i was drowning in the blackness. i never had enough of you to stay alive, always too much to die.
i just want to die.
finally you allow me to die.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

we possibly might know someone who's following the mexican team as well

the minute i realised i physically could write about sex, i began to do so. this is quite alright in my book, which is not
yet quite a real thing, but as for my blog... my friends read that, and there is some stuff which they are better off not
knowing about each other.

i gave you absolutely everything that i was and you took it all. you gave me some of yourself and you took it all back. but
at least i have one thing of yours which you can't take back. you got enough for two people and i got fucking useless
nothing which i don't even care about. my heart is broken. there, at last, i admitted it. my heart is broken. a great,
black ravine runs down its centre and my soul is in the ravine... my heart is broken.

i gave all that i possibly could and felt no regret, i wanted you to have it. do you miss it? is there a great, empty,
blinding, white space in your stone heart where my love used to be? i wonder if you're listening?

the last few days, i've been having urges to ring you on a private number and not say anything, just to hear your voice. i
don't think i could resist talking back to it though. it would destroy me to hear your voice turn angry at me. i keep
forgetting that you're mad at me. i don't know what i'm thinking. like we should still be friends. after all that you've
done to me, after all that you've put me through, you're mad at me? why are you allowed to be mad at me? and i'm not mad
at you, i'm not thinking of you. but by some collossal injustice, you are allowed to be mad at me.

when i am so loving, how did i fall in love with a sculpture? perfect, beautiful, cold, hard, devoid of emotion, unmoving.

you were an impossible man to love, and yet i managed.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

i don't care how much you'll invest yourself in me

trust the nice men even less than the nasty men. if it's too good to be true, it probably isn't. there is always a catch.
they are the most serpentine of all.

bitter? moi? you say it like i shouldn't be. i knew what you were like, but you can't choose who you love. i knew you'd
only hurt me, you'd only push me away. why did i bother jumping from that cliff? i knew there was only so far i could fly
before i hit the ground. why did you push me from that cliff? you knew you'd only hurt me too. you were convinced that i'd
hurt you.

you told me you'd die without me... but you're still alive. still alive. while inside i've died.

you didn't love me at all. for you, nothing has changed. you kept telling me nothing has changed. fucking everything has
changed.

i put all my eggs in your basket.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

a passion ending so the world ceases turning

you can cry all you won't but it won't wash away what you've done, you can cry a great ocean but it won't wash away what
you've done yourself out of. you're so much heavier, taller, stronger than me. it hurts too much. i'm too in love with you to give in. hey,
c'mere. i want this too much. i needed you to want me, and you did. for a brief few hours, you wanted me.

i chose elsie dollheart so that people wouldn't get what they were expecting. i chose the sweetest, most romantic name i
could think of. usually, in order to send people a message, you need to blindside them. it's initials are also e.d., a
subject with which i am obsessed, although it's a shame to say that wasn't intentional. you know what's funny? as i'm
writing this, my english teacher thinks i'm taking notes on 'lines written on a seat by the grand canal, dublin.' what
drivel. but if you like it... you haven't got a brain.

watching people brush their hair is fascinating. it was yet another ordinary thing which you made extraordinary.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

the same situations, just different faces

i can't really comprehend, let alone cope with the fact that your life may be going on. every time i picture you and what
you're doing, i see you lying horizontally across your bed, or on your couch playing that fucking xbox of yours - the
way i knew you. i can't picture that your world continued to turn without me.

it's most likely that you're not at home. you've probably, definitely gone back to college. nobody there probably even
knows about us. you hid me away, after all. i can't imagine that you have thoughts or a mind. i planted every single
thought you ever had in your head, so how are you doing without me?

you must think about me, you must. do you miss me? was i not even
the star in my own relationship? i must say, i performed excellently, but i felt more like an extra.

do you regret ever going near me? do you wish you were near me right now? you
created this person. i wasn't like this when we were together, even if i should have been. you created this monster. this
is your fault, not mine. it's not me, it's you. the great thing though, at the end of all this is that i am still hot and
you are still horsey. i will find someone better than you, and you will never, ever find a girl half as good as me, and if
you did you'd be blessed. this gives me a very warm feeling inside, although it could just be the feeling of my internal
organs phailing me.

Monday, March 9, 2009

i wonder if you're listening?

it's just no good. there's just no god. and even if there was, he wouldn't give a shit about you. it's like someone
who owns an ant farm. which happens to be overrun with billions upon billions of ants which are multiplying by the minute.
how can you look after one individual ant? you give them food, but how can you tell that each one gets an equal share?

i think space exploration is a Bad Idea. it's kind of like the ants escaping from the tank. sooner or later, they are going
to get walked on.

i need to start thinking about you again soon. fifty days have made me older since the last time that i saw your
horsey face. fifty days. i'm still holding on, i'm still alive, so i'm going to go ahead and assume that i will remain
alive for the forseeable future. i don't think having your heart, soul and general entire middle ripped out is a fatal
injury after all. but am i only still alive because i've refused to think about you?

it sounds twisted, but this is why i need to start thinking about you again. i suppose i want to remember you fondly, but
i only want them to be memories. i never want to speak to you again, you will destroy me. because if i get hopeful again...
you completely and utterly destroyed me with hope that you could ever, ever love me or indeed any other human being. how
stupid could i be? you love guns. you love guitars. you love your dog... there's no room in your heart for me, regardless
of how perfect, beautiful, intelligent, funny and kind i am. although you said yourself i was almost perfect in every way,
and i was the best thing that ever happened to you - so what went wrong? what's missing? i didn't provide you with a single
reason not to love me... so why don't you?

but i digress. i need to think about you again, i need to slowly, healthily re-introduce you into my thoughts. as if i ever
did anything slowly or healthily. if i continue to block you out like this, i'll develop a complete block against you,
involving several-times-daily flashbacks, though not so much flashbacks as flickering memories of memories, flashbacks
which make me retch and gag with longing and repulsion. longing and repulsion. you're beautiful. i mean that so strongly, i
use that word as powerfully as possible. you're so beautiful it's crippling for me to remember you.

i detest the word, 'feverishly.'

Friday, March 6, 2009

and buried the remains in an unmarked grave in your heart

when i started school at the age of four, i went through hell over my shoes. there were these two girls, one of them was
named kelly and had black hair, and the other had blonde hair and i can't remember her name. she obviously hasn't made much
of an impact on my life, but anyway, these days i have a much better sense of identity thanks to my mother forcing me to
wear jesus creepers when i was in baby infants. really, i do. jesus was obviously really cool and nice, otherwise why would
he be so popular? unless he was one of those popular people who was so threatening that everyone was just too scared to
not be his friend...

on turning eighteen: smoking is actually that much fun, now that i'm allowed to do it. it still gives me cancer though, i
continue to feel naughty when i do it. then again, milk gives you cancer too. cycling bicycles gives you cancer.

graffiti is pointless in this town. the population have the approximate collective iq of a parsnip, and wouldn't be able to
understand the messages i think the world need to know. either that, or they would choose not to be able to understand.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

what does santa claus do for hallowe'en?

for every minute of happiness in life, there's a month of misery. why do we remember the insults, but not that compliments?
but there's someone in my head, so i wouldn't be happy if all my dreams came true. which they have. unfortunately, you can
wake up in real life, too.

my backstage ryder:
an electric blanket
a kitten to play with
a bouncing castle made of jelly
voshka
a band
and it all has to be in a pinhata.

when i see people eating, it makes me want to not eat. eating disorders are really, really fun. but i don't have one.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

if you don't like emos, don't read this

i like having no heart, imagine everything that the human race could do if it had no heart? but i think this ice is
thawing, the agony arriving. i can vaguely feel it if i search hard, swollen, though i try not to search at all. i didn't
even consider whether i loved you until last night. that's when i was, once again, arrested by the desire to tell you that
i love you. but i didn't know if i actually loved you. i didn't ask myself, i don't want to know. i didn't cry until the
saturday before yesterday. i started bawling, howling crying at midday and stopped and nine pm. and that was it, then it
was over.

i find it hard to think that i'll never kiss you again or that there's no hope that you'll ever love me again, but it would
destroy me to think that i will and you could. i think i'm the only person in the world who hope utterly demolished. you
never were good enough for me, but i wanted so, so badly for you to be. when you love someone, you want to believe they're
good.

it sucks being so fabulous. it really, really does. because how could anyone ever be good enough for me? you want someone,
but you don't want to settle for just anyone.

but now i'm free, and i'm a machine, made of metal, because that's shinier than stone. i no longer have to deal with your
lack of enthusiasm, your body and mind inertia, i no longer have to babysit you. i can be anything, do anyone. i don't have
to hold back because i'm afraid of dying and hence losing you. i don't care if i die, and for the first time i have hope of
living... but i don't want to. hanging yourself hurts. it's this thing again, this thing where you finally get what you
want and you massively don't want it any more. massively. is any more two words or one?

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

maybe some day you will know, maybe some day you will grow

one day everything you've ever wanted and you finally achieved will be snatched from your grubby hands, and it will be the
best thing that ever happened to you. imagine that you had nothing left to live for. having nothing left to live for. so it
doesn't matter if you die. so you can do anything because there's absolutely nothing to stop you. once you face your
greatest fear and live through it, how could you ever fear anything again? throw it all away. once you don't care if you
live or die, anything is possible.

i'm numb by choice. i'm afraid to explore my emotions... i need to be in pain to write. my agony will make me a
millionaire, and i'll use all the money to kill myself with drink and drugs.

i wish i could stop my world from revolving around you. now that you've cut my chord i briefly imagined i had the freedom
of my life not being worth living, but that freedom disappeared when i realised that every time i closed my eyes i still
saw your face, i still planned my conversations with you, i still wondered if you'd think i'd look nice in that dress. do
you get that? why is my brain wired to think about you? i don't even like you, i don't even care about you, and i'm far too
scared to search for my tiny stone heart to see if it still loves you.

i don't want this ice to thaw, i don't want this numbness to dissipate. for a few perfect days, i didn't need you or anyone
else, i was indestructible, made of metal, and i believed i could do anything. i couldn't find my heart anywhere. i don't
know if it's broken, i can't feel it.

because you can feel your metaphorical heart, can't you? or i could, until thursday 19th. it's sunday 1st today. time
passes, even when you sincerely believe that it would take a million years for a second to pass. but i digress.

i'd like to thank you for dumping me

you've probably made me a millionaire. without it, i could never have generated enough biley, bloody hatred to write any of this shit. this upcoming shit which is too evil for here for now...