Crash.Burn.Repeat.

I love you's send people to early graves.
I think its kinda funny how Im so anchored to you.
goes to show pain isnt so relative.

"Get the fuck up." The cold floor is too much of a shock. God damnit. I’m opening my eyes and already I’m getting that panic feeling. He’s not there.
Hasn’t been for quite some time now.
So much for satisfaction. I blame you for this. All this fucking numb.
I ripped out my guts yesterday,didn't hurt they were empty anyway.
same as yesterday.
I tried, God, i fucking tried. I spawned, I loved.
You asked no more from me, i thought, but i thought what you gave me to make me happy was going to stay. You snapped your almighty fingers and took it away. All that time devoted. FUCKING ERASED. DELETED
SEE: MEANING OF EMPTY.
Tell me in bated breathe what makes you so damn "special".
A fondness of aspirin has begun. Anything that burns, really.
Give me pain,a couple of those && you begin to feel like you've drunk hot wax.
I don’t want to remember.
"I am drinking this && I am fucking her"
Congratulations! THIS is your doctrine now.
Is this what satisfies a man?
Carnal pleasures or is it really product of an empty heart.
I find it somewhat sad that you wouldnt know a good thing If it came up behind you && slit your throat.

like finding a new best friend.

Here is a passage from an article from an interview with Julian.
Julian is listening to music and smoking a cigarette. “What did you want to be,” he asks me, “when you were a kid?”“This?” I say with a shrug. “What about you?”“I just wanted to write music that could touch people,” he says. “A songwriter — you play a few chords and sing a melody that’s been done a thousand times, and now you’re a singer-songwriter. I think it takes a little more than that to do something that matters. And I wish I could write a song where all the parts work. When you hear a song like that, it’s like finding a new friend. Maybe you’ve been fucking alone and looking for someone, and when you find them, it’s like everything seems better. I feel like sometimes great artists — it won’t politically affect anything, but it can make a crack in the ceiling and you can see a bit of light. You don’t know what’s gonna come, but you try. I think eighty-five percent of the fun is just going for it. And not going for it for your own gratification, but making personal sacrifices to do it right.” Suddenly self-conscious about having waxed philosophical, HE LOOKS ME IN THE EYES AND LAUGHS,”OR NOT”:)

Impartial

I don't know how to start this.
Im trying to find translation
I see simply a sillouhette of who i used to be.
No sign of what I want to be.
Or justification for what I am not.
"Car ride,where?
home?
HELL!,why not"
this is my mind when it is anchored && docked to my worries.
Starbucks is closed,I need to get away now.
When i think my mind has reached its limit,it keeps on crawling.
Im impartial to rational logic now it is too late for reasoning.
To tired to think straight is the only thing I am sure of.
I even forgot why I wrote this,

Not sure If i was supposed to write this to save my sorry ass or help you with yours.
point is an empty coffee mug rests bedside.
cigarette put out on my headboard.
it is 5am I am not asleep,life isnt always so polite.

There are so many things I'd like to tell him,but I know how much they would sit&&fester in his mind.
so I burried them && let them fester in mine.
Im relieved that hearts can't break.
How awful that would be huh.
When morning does it's job,the first thoughts that run threw my mind are;
Im over him,I dont need him or anyone else for that matter.
I suppose I do this HOPING that one day I'll trick myself into truely believing it.

I think I finally found the devine antidote to life.
this is probably the closest ive came to a sustained happiness with also having to let go of certain posessions whether it may be a human or something of the material sort.
tangible.
“I should warn you I go to sleep, I know you don't know what I mean yet, I get upset or happy, I go to sleep nothing hurts when I go to sleep but I'm not tired I'm not tired...”
-ben folds five
that used to be me every single day
when morning did its job the first thing that would run through my mind was when the hell was i going to be able to sleep again.

Has anyone seen my will to live, because I seem to have lost it.

fighting concordance;

So many times I've ranted about the insufficient pseudo progress we claim to embrace as purpose.
How those who oppose majority standards are portrayed as "scum" simply because majority was raised to deliver obedience to society,which already suffers from eroding foundations.
Laced with nothing but pre-processed ignorance.
Those sentimentalities that land you closest to reality can't be accounted for through the material field.
THERE ARE MANY CRACKS IN THIS FACADE.

when it isn't like it should be.

My dream of heaven is always the same.
The cursing and the unhinged drinking I thought for sure would keep me firmly rooted below,but there I was,WEIGHTLESS,but not.
A sense of OVERWHELMING peace washed over my face it was as if the world had become my soul mate.
I feel the chill.
My heart slams awake.
I NEED him.
like i need medicine to give me the will to rise into the uncertainties of another dragged on day.
There was no guarantees I'd be coming back feeling alive.
"Ellie there's No way you should be walking.",
somehow in that stupor of cheep vodka I was STILL walking towards him.
He felt so fucking unreachable.
He had been for too long now,I knew this,but I dragged on,
No matter how much I lost,how much I cried.
The charred fist that is now my liver is vindication of how much i tried to forget.
I would walk on in the dark.
The puddle soaking in through my shoe was letting me know EXACTLY where I was.
"FUCK.",
Drop to my knees.
"What the fuck did you do to me!",
Man, I could've cried til' my lungs collapsed,
"Let me push this gravel into my knee deeper...."
I wanted to feel.
I needed to feel.
"ellie!"
I keep walking.
Oh, Lord if I could reach out and show you how this truly felt.
"I love him.",seeped from my lips like fucking word vomit......
I could choke on those same 3 words a million times and not learn my Gawd damn lesson.
My journal is blood in ink.
My blood is ink.
My heart is stone.

should I inject you in my veins?
would it be easier that way?
maybe then you'd stay.