There's nothing like a Nightmare Box...

Until everything might change.
Change some more, I guess.

Momma.
Ooh, ooh, ooh...

So I should find a way out.
So everyone can find a way out.

Hepatitis C is the leading cause of liver transplants.

Personal statement, essay, paper. Writing.
Work. Different kind of work.
Work on a relationship of all other sorts.
And someone is running around Kensington killing cats.

People.
"And then you sold out for the
Shade of the palm tree scene
And said, 'Oh what a drag!
Oh what a backwards scheme,
Cuz here things go from grey
To grey and back to grey again
And they get green and go to grey
And back to grey again' "

How about everyone just tells me what they think about my life? Without ever knowing me. Yeh, that sounds good.

You're right, you're so right. You know me so well that you know what I want and you know what I feel and you know why I dislike you. And the girl who told everything that you "know" also happens to know, in fact, she knows so much that she actually knows me and actually ever knew anything about me and was ever actually true. Yeh, that's exactly it.
How about you ask that very same girl how many times I told her she didn't know me at all?
Watch the expression her face makes.

-ing
-ation
-ization
-ings
-Death.

love me so much.
Sometimes I guess that's enough to get me through the day here. But really, I know it's bad for my health to be here. It's bad for my heart, it's bad for my soul, it's bad for my head. I don't care if I have to take off my clothes to make enough money to get the fuck out of here. That would be better than staying here. Sometimes it makes me so angry and I don't know what to do and I don't know what to say and it's pointless and I want to give in and I want to give up and no one else really knows this and no one else really should and no one else would really understand without having seen it. One day, just....One day soon, I hope this can be understood. I hope you drop out of your stupid fucking free ride because you're an idiot and go get a sex change with your stupid dickhead asshole boyfriend and I hope you realize that you may be able to sing about some girl fucking you and then leaving you when you were fourteen but I can't sing and I can't write so I guess I'll just never let it out and I hope you fucking crash and burn. You deserve it.
I know that you'll die alone. Is all that I can say.
I had so much faith in YOU. YOU is all I believed in, YOU is who I thought would make it, YOU is who I thought would get it.
You seep in and you seep out but I'm still here.

What hurt is. You're exactly like the people who made you the way you are now. I want to feel bad for you but pity is a hard thing to have on a person who's consciously stayed the same for 46 years. One day you're going to be alone and wonder why. You're going to have no one to take care of and no one to take care of you. You're going to weep over your very loneliness. And I will not be there.
Maybe then you'll realize it.
But really, you probably won't and you're going to die a sad, bitter, ugly person.
Can't say I'll feel too bad.

open an envelope.

Fuck you.

Exhausting to listen everyone talk about all the protests and the meet in the middle and everything else when really, none of them get it.
The entire argument at the supreme court was about whether or not the actual campaign on 8 was illegal or legal. The ACLU was arguing that the campaign itself and it going to ballot was illegal because in our United States Constitution in section whatever and paragraph whatever it says that it is illegal to vote away the rights of a minority group but it was NOT, I repeat, NOT about gay marriage. And furthermore, not only that but it WAS legal to vote on 8. Because of our federal system, ANY state has the right to appeal a law in the constitution or anything else if that state so chooses, which sadly, California did. BUT, it had nothing to do with gay marriage. It was actually just about whether the votes themselves were illegally happening, which they weren't.
So, NO, I won't be going to Meet In The Middle.
And, NO, I won't be going to any protests.
And, NO, I'm not going to stand there in front of city hall saying that I believe in marriage equality for everyone when that had NOTHING TO DO WITH THE COURT DECISION OR THE ARGUMENT IN THE FIRST PLACE.
Half the people who voted in supreme court were DEMOCRATS, you would think that if it was really about the issue of gay marriage itself, they would have voted to let it happen. But it wasn't.
Inform yourselvesssssss....

Mills was beautiful.
Hippy Hill was beautiful.
The bridges were beautiful.
We can't wait to live there.
:]

It gone, bye-bye...bye.
Who I, I think.
I sink, and I die.

But still so Crayola brown.

But there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory.
And though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable;
I simply am not there.

Ugly, ugly person.
You are such a very, very ugly person.
I cry not for myself, but for you because you are such an ugly, ugly person.
You will never sacrifice yourself for the goodwill of others, you will never go above and beyond for anything you believe in and you will die alone and unhappy and quietly and no one will ever remember the good things you did.
You are such a very, very ugly person...

Everytime you think you're walking, you're just moving the ground.
Everytime you think you're talking, you're just moving your mouth.

Everytime, everytime, everytime...

Bitch.

I was sitting in a Persian tea room and reading American Psycho and I was overcome and it was so sad and so sick and so hateful and so awful that it was just all too much. It's like those moments when you think something's over but it's not; something you've wanted to be over for quite a while, something you can't handle, something you don't want. But then it just isn't over and then it just still isn't and then it's just still not and then you don't know what to do and you just get pissed off and angry and all hot a fucking bothered and then you just want to throw shit and everyone's face and kill them and punch them and yell and cry and die. But you just don't because you just can't and there's not really that particular of a reason why not in your mind even though, obviously, there's a very good reason why you can't do that.
That's how I feel sometimes, like that book made me feel, the way American Psycho and Persian tea rooms make me feel sometimes.
Just like that.

For days and days.