`do you want a peice of me?
h e l l o ? is anyone there?
# black shoe, black shoe, change the other shoe.
Description :
-blogstar of week 09/07/2008
-watching tv on mute.
-eating cereal without milk.
-riding bikes in winter.
-doing cartwheels in the middle of the street.
-playing frère jacques on a payphone.
-whistles with a raisin box
Son profil
coolbuzby
15 ans
Terrebonne
Canada
"life is good i can't complain. i mean i could but no one's listening,,
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# Posté le mercredi 01 avril 2009 12:59
Modifié le jeudi 09 avril 2009 18:16
"why do i feel this party's over?,,
&& emotional shit !
Where does he even begin? How about clearing everyone else. He isn't blaming anyone but himself for the way he feels, so if anyone reads this, it's not you, it's him, it's always him. His life would be so easier without himself. If you thought that didn't make sense, you need to talk with him some more. His theories and vision of life, how it is and how it should be, are so messed up. Okay, now that's out of the way, no ne will feel bad about the following statements...
He feels alone. He feels like a random mass of skin and bones people's stare brushes over. At lunch, he feels like he can't eat with anyone since he'd be so random or left out. Namely, he doesn't even have the chance to test the theory out since there isn't any place for him. He used to have one though, but doesn't anymore. He feels as if he had become an outcast. Now, is all of this true? Probrabally not, but that's how all of this feels on his side of the world, like there wasn't any place for him, and even when there was, a feeling of randomness and embarassment came along. Yes, embarassment. He's embarassed he doesn't have a clique of friends he can dine with; all his close friends are scattered on filled tables. Embarassed he's become a weight for thier social scene; and he can't deal with that. It reminds him his days in elementary school. Shudder. That era was horrible, and if he ever felt an isolation like he did then, he would snap. But again, he isn't blaming anyone for his quivering fear of solitude; he just can't be with himself.
He can barely live with himself.
He feels alone. He feels like a random mass of skin and bones people's stare brushes over. At lunch, he feels like he can't eat with anyone since he'd be so random or left out. Namely, he doesn't even have the chance to test the theory out since there isn't any place for him. He used to have one though, but doesn't anymore. He feels as if he had become an outcast. Now, is all of this true? Probrabally not, but that's how all of this feels on his side of the world, like there wasn't any place for him, and even when there was, a feeling of randomness and embarassment came along. Yes, embarassment. He's embarassed he doesn't have a clique of friends he can dine with; all his close friends are scattered on filled tables. Embarassed he's become a weight for thier social scene; and he can't deal with that. It reminds him his days in elementary school. Shudder. That era was horrible, and if he ever felt an isolation like he did then, he would snap. But again, he isn't blaming anyone for his quivering fear of solitude; he just can't be with himself.
He can barely live with himself.
&& emotional shit !
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# Posté le mercredi 25 mars 2009 13:05
Modifié le jeudi 09 avril 2009 13:03
"sleeping in,,"I've been sleeping in for days, 'cause when I am awake, I would have to face, my life."
.................................t o r t u r o u s . The silence, the waiting, the complete and utter darkness, simply, torturous.
.................................The thought of what to come freezes his flesh to the bone, and a salty tear is the only heat in the frozen
.................................cage of his mind. He knows it's bond to happen. He know it will happen. It's been happening since the dawn
.................................of time, and that thought only adds to the climbing momentum, the growing anxiety...
.................................His breath is held, his mind is alert, it had been for too many sleepless nights now, and it's asking the same
.................................question again; Will I survive the suicide that is another sunrise? Here's your chance to find out...
.................................The Sun's rays peeked bittersweetly and horridly over the horison; as if they were mocking him. Thier light
.................................smirked, 'Welcome back to the real world, simply and naive boy.' Damn. The worst part is, they're right. He,
.................................is still here. He, is still part of this. He, is still trapped in the hard, cold principle of reality. What now? It's
.................................just like every other morning he'd wished Tomorrow would of let him in perpetually; he must convince
.................................himself to step out of bed and go throught another day of himself. This, is the hard part who spins out of
.................................control sometimes...
.................................His mind is deep at question. 'Why should I do this? Why should I go on? Why should I set myself up to take
.................................the shit I know will be thrown my way; I'll through my way? Why should I try and fail everytime? Why
.................................should I try to substain the rotten, dying corpse that I am? What makes life so valuable?' Eventually, time
.................................for the unanswered questions passes; he's forced into the reality of fake smiles and artificial emotion. Let's
.................................just say, he turns his self-destruct mecanism on the moment his feet touch the ground...
.................................Wind him up and watch him go? He'd rather be dreaming.
.................................The thought of what to come freezes his flesh to the bone, and a salty tear is the only heat in the frozen
.................................cage of his mind. He knows it's bond to happen. He know it will happen. It's been happening since the dawn
.................................of time, and that thought only adds to the climbing momentum, the growing anxiety...
.................................His breath is held, his mind is alert, it had been for too many sleepless nights now, and it's asking the same
.................................question again; Will I survive the suicide that is another sunrise? Here's your chance to find out...
.................................The Sun's rays peeked bittersweetly and horridly over the horison; as if they were mocking him. Thier light
.................................smirked, 'Welcome back to the real world, simply and naive boy.' Damn. The worst part is, they're right. He,
.................................is still here. He, is still part of this. He, is still trapped in the hard, cold principle of reality. What now? It's
.................................just like every other morning he'd wished Tomorrow would of let him in perpetually; he must convince
.................................himself to step out of bed and go throught another day of himself. This, is the hard part who spins out of
.................................control sometimes...
.................................His mind is deep at question. 'Why should I do this? Why should I go on? Why should I set myself up to take
.................................the shit I know will be thrown my way; I'll through my way? Why should I try and fail everytime? Why
.................................should I try to substain the rotten, dying corpse that I am? What makes life so valuable?' Eventually, time
.................................for the unanswered questions passes; he's forced into the reality of fake smiles and artificial emotion. Let's
.................................just say, he turns his self-destruct mecanism on the moment his feet touch the ground...
.................................Wind him up and watch him go? He'd rather be dreaming.
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# Posté le jeudi 19 mars 2009 15:59
Modifié le lundi 23 mars 2009 16:35
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