The secret thoughts of me

This is what my next month is going to be… I can’t...

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 11:04:58 -0500

This is what my next month is going to be… I can’t wait!!

Photo

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 10:58:33 -0500

I wonder if I could do this in my new room?

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 10:55:33 -0500

I wonder if I could do this in my new room?

No words needed

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 10:52:26 -0500

No words needed

Photo

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 10:50:44 -0500

Photo

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 10:40:46 -0500

Sex on legs… although you can’t see them. x

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 10:36:23 -0500

Sex on legs… although you can’t see them.

Amazing breasts

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 10:25:45 -0500

Amazing breasts

Omg I love this photo, totally shouldn’t be posting this....

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 10:20:05 -0500

Omg I love this photo, totally shouldn’t be posting this. Haha

Being wrecked

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 00:34:46 -0500

I don’t know what to say. I’m tired, sad, embarrassed, humiliated and just plain wrecked. Sitting here in this uncomfortable silence makes me want to scream and cry. But I needed to come back, I couldn’t over stay my welcome and after two days I’m already sick of living out of a duffel bag and I want to sleep in my bed. But he won’t talk to me, he won’t say what’s on his mind and it makes me want to hit him all the more. I have stopped hating him or being mad at him, I have started to become confused and not understand him. I’m disappointed in the way he handled everything and feel like a down right fool for not seeing the signs sooner. Or maybe I did but I didn’t want to acknowledge them. I don’t want to go anywhere, I want to stay and try to fix this. Whatever this is, I suppose its a dis-jointed friendship. I don’t want him back, but some much of me misses him. It’s so frustrating not being able to touch him and talk to him the way that I used to. But that is why I left, and I wasn’t going to come back. But for some insane reason I felt like torturing myself some more and seeing his beautiful face. He seems scared and every now and then I catch him looking at me out of the corner of my eye. It’s like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what. And I don’t want to ask, I shouldn’t even be here after all. If not for an appointment tomorrow I would be at my parents house. Other friends have offered me places to stay but nothing is as good as my own bed. It may be lonely and bare but its mine and no one can take it away from me. Not even him, since he’s taken every part of my heart already.

I almost keep wishing I hadn’t of asked and had of stayed blissfully ignorant of the situation. Right now we’d probably be lying in bed nursing our hangover’s together from the party I was supposed to attend the night before.

I just I wish I knew where to go from here.

The joy of having nothing

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 08:03:32 -0500

I think I can pin point when my life went to shit for the very first time. I was 11 years old in year 5 and no one in my own year level wanted to play with me, so I made friends with the girls younger than me. But that is when the teasing started and it never ended. Every time something bad or in this case shit happens in my life it is always followed by AT LEAST two other shit things. And my doctors wonder why I get depressed and never want to get out of bed. It’s because nothing good ever ever ever happens to me. And when something slightly remotely makes me happy two or three other things pull me right back down again and make me feel like shit.

Why does life have to be so hard?

It’s not this hard for everyone else. No one else I known spends most of their week at the doctors, Falls for a boy who doesn’t even like her and finds it difficult to even get out of bed most days of the week.

Why does it have to be this hard?

Why can’t just once, just this once, why can’t God give me a break. Just a chance to be happy, to make something of my life. To not have horrible nightmares every night and wake up crying or dripping in sweat. Why can’t I just be plain and I guess normal. I know there is no such thing as normal, but the majority of people out there don’t have the sort of problems that I do.

Why me?

I keep wondering what I must have done in a past life to deserve this life. Was I an adviser to the devil or something, did I burn people alive, some kind of dictator maybe?

All I know is that this is shit

and

I can’t go on like this much longer

Either someone fixes me

I fix it my way.

The secret thoughts of the untaken

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 21:04:20 -0400

So in the past few days I have lost my taken one and been the victim of some horrible stomach illness that is making the rounds. Not a very nice week. So in loosing choosing to loose my boy (mutual) it has given me a better perspective of the world. I am my one person now, free to make my own mistakes and I don’t have to care what anyone thinks. I love the fact that I can wear what I want and not have to think…. “Hmmm will he like this on me, or think I look bad?” And I’m free to eat or not eat without scrutiny. The down side is that I miss my cuddles, but I will have to get them from my teddy bear :-p It’s going to be hard in the next few weeks, especially knowing that he’s only a few feet away and I can’t touch him. The word ‘housemate’ is going to get thrown around alot. but hopefully the word ‘happiness’ is going to prevail. As they say, and not to sound so dramatic but today is the first real day of the rest of my single life… or something like that, and I think I like that. I’m actually looking forward to craziness and boys and flirting with my gal pal and the thought of not being held back by someone. And hopefully not having my mood ruined by that someone. I would go out and treat myself to something special but I’m broke from the horrible stomach disease, how annoying. Oh and as for that previously post mentioned boy he does want to hang with me, and have fun with me so maybe I’ll get to touch him after all.

I wanted this post to have a lighter note than the last so I wont go into any other details about it just yet.

Photo

Wed, 23 Sep 2009 10:17:33 -0400

RAMONA WAS A WAITRESS - Paul Dempsey typing letters to the dead late at night on a closed piano...

Wed, 23 Sep 2009 10:09:47 -0400

RAMONA WAS A WAITRESS - Paul Dempsey

typing letters to the dead

late at night on a closed piano lid

she circles past, she fills your glass

but she don’t recognize the song

once in a lifetime she says

the waking life stitched together in your head

well, what if it’s only worth

the bundle of nerves it’s written on?

and i don’t need these arms anymore

i don’t need this heart now, to love

i don’t need this skin and bones at all

there’s a way you’ve always known her

telephone between her cheek and her shoulder

and eyes like crystal balls

that just won’t shut up about the future of the future

and ramona was a waitress

all but made of informationin

in a bar under the third bridge

she says she’s looking forward to living forever

when I wont these arms anymore

I wont need this heart to love

and I wont need this skin and bones

at all…

and Ramona was a waitress…

The secret thoughts of the taken

Wed, 23 Sep 2009 00:47:29 -0400

I lay awake at night and wonder what it would be like if things were different. If I didn’t live here and I wasn’t this person. I wonder what it would feel like to touch him again, to feel his smooth face against my neck. For him to grab my hair in passion and want me, to really want me. To be carefree and dance the night away and then have him take me in his arms and touch my skin so lightly that I crave it more and more. These thoughts almost haunt me, they appear in my dreams and when I am trying not to think of him he clouds my head laughing his stupid little laugh and manipulating my subconscious. I have gotten so used to him being in my head that I can no longer live without it. I can no longer go a day, a minute, a second without seeing his face and hearing his voice. I always want to talk to him, no matter how trivial the conversation. But I know that he is not looking for me, that he is taking his life by chance and not fate, so it will never be. And for some reason this does not make me want to let go, it makes me want to hold on even longer and tighter and makes me feel like I can’t breathe. I know that if I was to take my life by chance and I did have him, it wouldn’t be what I want, it wouldn’t be the same as it was before. It might be the same as it was before, but we both had different ideas of what before meant to each of us. Sometimes I think that it would be easy to forget that I’m taken and go for life but I know that I now have a strong conscious and I would not be able to live with myself, live with hurting him. Even if I do not love him the way I thought I did I cannot betray him, I am not that person, I never will be that person again.

How can this be that my one and only does not look like my one and only anymore. How can I survive without him. He picks me up when I fall down and looks after me when I’m sick, but there has to be more, more than just need. There has to be love, when I look into his eyes I have to see that I am wanted and I am needed. I will never be needed by him, only ever wanted. And these days I am not even sure that I am wanted. He assures me that I am, but he has lied to me before about love so I cannot bring myself to believe him.

How do I keep myself away from the one I want to spend time with. How do I keep myself from wanting him, from craving his lips, his face and his tongue. My mind is trying to find anyway to be near him, to see him, to hold him. But my brain thinks I am being ridiculous and that I’m scared because I can’t even face him, not the way I feel now. I would probably make a huge fool of myself and never be able to see him again. But then again maybe that is what I need to get over this compulsion, this feeling, craving, wanting, lusting, longing. And the fantasies are getting worse, even more elaborate and teasing. And why did I let them meet. Now both are jealous of the other and both of them don’t understand what I see in the other.

Why did he come back into my life. Why didn’t he just leave it, he hurt me and now he’s back. I feel like this is some moronic test, which I will inevitably fail. What does fate want of me now, have I not suffered enough? Maybe he is supposed to bring back my ‘fun’ side that left when he did. I feel as though he still has a piece of me and I need it back, and I have to get it back in order to get over him. Its just so tempting to drive there. I think I’m going to end up becoming a stalker like another little female I know. No I don’t want this, I don’t want to get hurt again, I hurt for months the way it ended. And then I found my taken one and the sun began to shine again. He made me so happy and I loved him so very deeply. But then my happiness faded and so did my love for him. Maybe I am better off without my thought of ‘one and only’.

Maybe he is better off without me and my sick and twisted ways.