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Same Old Song |
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Well here WE go again. Yeah I know, my website sucks and contains stuff that I only find funny but I tried, look how far that got me. I can't even see the pictures, can you see them? It would be nice to know because if you can't I'll just take them off instead of leaving blank boxes with a red X on the page. Well if you are tired of looking at the big red boxes o the white background in Twiggy Christ, fret no more. I'll keep my stuff pictureless from now on, not for Catherne's sake though because no one is going to run their mouths at me about how my pictures are crude and disrespect the artist, I didn't take the damn pictures, they did. Anyway I'm not going to blab on about something you already know. This is really about my Bonnie Situation. Bonnie has been my best friend for who cares how long now, and has become my Shepard through the Valley of Darkness (god I love Pulp Fiction), without her, shit, I would have no one, so Bonnie thank you babe for listening to my stupid humor and all the pointless things I have to say and for actually caring about me when I was crying because the Marilyn Manson tickets were sold out (even though we did go, it was wonderful) and for dealing with my very foolish attempts to get in your pants. Everything you do for me is very appreciated. But of course fate has to be cruel and place us so far away with no means of getting to each other. Man I miss you. I should be crying now but I havn't cried in so long that I forgot how to. I mean I'm getting horrible grades and I can't get a date and Buldge McFeely is harder to get ahold of then the President (by the way, that fucker shouldn't even be our President) and since fate will always be it's cruelest, I'm probley going to have to go to summer school which of course means that I wont be able to see all my friends when they go to An-ook-ii-jig. It might not seem like much to the rape victims or drop-out crack addicts who might be reading this but its fucking overwhelming. I used to write stories but I cant anymore, I dont know whether it's lack of inspiration or an abundance of pop culture but I'm not the same anymore.I'm a disgrace. I just started actually living and i'm already tried of it. Everything is so overwhelming. And I'm sad to say it but life sure is passing me by.
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Letter From Bonnie |
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Oh Wow. Hi baby. Damn it. I'm crying again. I'm fucking crying. God, Jess. I miss you so much. And I don't even realize it half the time. I'm too busy thinking about what could happen here that I ignore what is happening with you, there. I love you so much and I realized today that I need you, maybe more then I ever
have...I thought that I just needed someone there for me that understood me, and loved me. And I knew that that was you. But now I've realized its the other way around... I need you and that's why your here for me. Missy (my "friend") fucking complains every night about missing her friends that live 30 minutes away, about how "distance kills"... Yeah well news flash, MY BEST FRIEND IS FUCKING 3 HOURS AWAY!! BEAT THAT!!! and her mom is always asking her if she wants to be driven out there... WHERE ARE OOOUUR MOMS BEGGING TO DRIVE US TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH? WHERE IS OOOUUUR CHOFUER SERVICE? TRAIN TICKET? HOT AIR BALLONS? ANYTHING!!!!!
Fuck. I think I'm going through a personality crisis...I can't write. If I write, there will be written proof that I suck, and I already have myself telling me that I suck...I don't need it in writing too. I can't draw. If I draw, it will most likly spiral from plagiarism anyways, and even a new piece of art taken from an already-existing piece isn't beautiful once you realize it's a copy. I can't play guitar. If I play, it will prove that I am just a fucking poser. When I practice, it proves I suck. Not practicing makes you suck, but I don't want to practice cause i know I suck! FUCK!
It's all in fear. I'm just afraid. I'm afriad of being just as good, or worse, then everyone else at something...mediocrity is the end of all ends in my mind. And being afraid of being just like everyone else is being...just...like...everyone...else. If I fall into the crowd, I'm lost, and I'm gone. But not trying makes me just like everyone else. People are failures because they don't try. And they don't try because they are afraid.
If everyone danced how they felt, when they felt like it, life would be a party. But people don't dance. They don't sing. Talk. Yell. Paint. Write. Laugh. Cry. Because they can't dance. They can't express themselves because they are afriad. And as I write this, I know that I'n not going to do anything about it. Fear has got me at my wit's end.
Love spirals from fear. Fear is why we feel we must wear rings to keep our loved one with us. And it's why we feel we must write I love you and say I love you till the words are meaningless...love is supposed to be felt. We love out of fear of being alone, and we fear of having no love.
But I'll say it, even if it is fear talking. I love you like Marilyn loves his cock, Jessica Dirty. And I fuckin miss you as much as I miss myself. |
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Well with that said, I'm going to go play more of the new Sims game I bought because there is nothing more fun then playing God since, as the despicable human machine I am, that is all I've got, me. Every living creature on earth dies alone, I'm not afraid of that anymore. |
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