THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
Late nights are made of:
Gay men and drag queens.
Synthisizers.
Wanting to be more than I am.
Being glad I own this man:
And am part of this plan:
Being charmed by emo kids.
Shaving dry just to see if I'll cut myself.
Being in love with far too little and far too much.
Bad grammer.
Ridiculous amounts of self-examination. [IKnowTooMuchAboutMyselfToLikeIt]
Wanting Los Angeles and Albany to be closer.
Being stuck up for good reasons; being an egomaniac because I know I'm not even half as good as narcissism warrants.
Knowing that being able to turns ugly pictures into pretty words doesn't make me any smarter and that every word I speak and every letter I type is just a reflection of what I don't want to be.
Hating the scene, all of the scenes, and everyone in them. Hating the fact that individualism doesn't exist and we're all such robots.
Hating emo kids and how I know what they're talking about.
The book Cut making me incredibly angry.
[What a load of bullshit. You want a concept novel? Try one that actually answers questions. Stop fucking treading so lightly on the subject.
When you watch girls do things like that to themselves and know they'll be dead in six months- you don't wanna hear it from a good side. It doesn't have a good side.
It's the same pansy-ass excuse for a remedy that Go Ask Alice was.
Except Alice was a pathetic Government issued warning that over-exaggerated and wanted you to feel sympathetic towards the lead character.
But you know what? If your'e gonna fuck your life up, through pills or razorblades, alchohol or sex, you don't deserve anybody's sympathy.
Sympathy's for people who can't handle things themselves- which you obviously can't.
You don't fucking need sympathy, you need reality. You need to open your eyes and see that immortality doesn't exist and you're not as fucking alone as you think you are. Grow up. Stop talking the easy way out.
Start thinking, you idiots.
And don't even try and tell me that I'm insensitive. Fuck you. I have zero tolerance for that bullshit.
You want to ruin your life? Fine. Just think about how many other people you'll be taking down with you.]
Not meaning to rant and blaming hormones for a lack of self control on issues like that.
I'm an angst-ridden teenager.
All my excuses lie in age.