|
blaaksheep
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Liz
Interests: Graphic design, camping, rugby, music (listening and playing), photography, cooking, reading, and bar hopping - - - oops, I mean "wine tasting"... Expertise: Anything "artsy" - - - well, not anything - - - none of that freaky, edible body paint (that shit's just strange).
Message: message me
Member Since:
7/24/2005
|
|
| Listening to: Inane chatter on the radio
Okay, so my last entry didn't post for some reason or another. Basically, it stated the same ol' feelings about my situation that I've had for quite some time. The playfulness was still there at that particular event, but with a little more seriousness than I was really able to handle. Its been a while since that, about 2 weeks. Everytime I tell myself that this is it, this is the end of all of this confused bliss, it happens again and I'm left to ponder. I'm sick of this shit. Why can't I be told the truth, why can't it be all laid out for me to view? Always so much undesired mystery. I'm so tired of trying at this, and I'm tired of always thinking about it. I want to run away from all of this; maybe then it would be clear for the other side. It's been half an hour since I caught a glimpse, and I'll be waiting a little longer. I continually tell myself that this is the last time, the last time that I will EVER care. I hurt so much because of this, a constant hurt that is so strong in clouds my mind. My decisions are unresponsible. I would be more willing to be so reckless if I knew that my endangerment was noticed. But, it never is noticed, and I always look the fool. I am like a period piece; I had my use and now I'm no longer fashionable. A fad, that's what I am, or apparently what I am perceived as. Fuck this shit; maybe I'm finally growing a backbone. That's it, I'm finished. I officially don't care anymore. Now my miniscule plan can be insuing jealousy, when the opportunity arises. I was so stupid about this whole thing; maybe I can begin to redeem myself now... | | |
| Listening to: The Used
That's me right there, used. I've never been one that's much for talking about things - I'm more into dropping hints and letting others pry information out of me. Lately, I've been getting better at being open, honest, and blunt. I can't be like that with everyone, nor would I want to be. Last night was a train wreck for me, an eye-opening train wreck. I tried something new, had some fun, and that concluded that - I got it out of my system and I felt kind of better. It was just nice to know that there are people like me (personality-wise) still out there. Then, it went all downhill - I should have just awoke in the morning without the knowledge that I unfortunately obtained instead of remaining awake and being a witness to all of it. It hurts me to see someone that I really care about so upset, especially when I feel the exact same feeling constantly. That's why I went - I didn't even think that it could have turned out that way. I've never felt so sick, my whole body throbbed in uncontrollable pain and my heart raced. I choked back some tears - I don't even know why I felt so sad. Why the fuck should I care? I at least have some decency. I think that it upset me more to see the absolute disregard for me than the actual events taking place in front of my eyes. I let myself get hurt - it's my own fault. Fuck! I don't even know why I remotely care! I search and search and search myself and nothing comes up - yet I still feel like this. I must be a stupid masichist that loves this shit or something. I just keep on doing it to myself, over and over again. Well, I'm done with this shit - I've been used for the last time. I don't want it to end like this, but I see no other way to do it. I'm sure that I've learned a lot from all of this, but I don't think that that's mutual. There's absolutely no need to continue on like this, unless I knew what was going on at the other end. But, I don't and I probably never will. So that's it, I'm through with this fucking bullshit that should have never began in the first place. It was all a mistake and I should have seen this coming. I think that deep down, I did see this coming - I just wanted to believe differently. Wishful thinking is dangerous - I got caught up in something that doesn't exist, if that makes any fucking sense. I can never go back, we can never go back - that's a fucking nasty truism of life. I want to leave this place - I don't want to be here anymore. The bad memories have already started to outnumber the good. I miss my home, but anywhere is better than here... | | |
| Listening to: Ben Folds (because it's on for some reason)
I missed an important day today - well, it wasn't too important, because MY "important day" pretty much sucked ass. And I get bitched at for not remembering - whoopdee fucking doo. At least I sat down and spent some time on making a card. I've been so preoccupied today, fucking forgive me. I'm sick of sitting here waiting for, something that I don't even know will happen. What the fuck am I to everyone? Lately, it seems like I'm a joke - like something people can just brush aside and "deal" with at a later date. Well, here I am, in the here and now. I hate this - nothing is ever on my terms - I have no fucking control over anything, ever. I don't know what the Hell I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to be the strong one, but I need something right now, I need someone right now. And I don't have anything, nothing to even barter with. I hate this so much - when will I have any control of anything? It's always out of my hands, always something that I can't control. When I try to take the reins, I'm reprimanded in some way. Fate has me by the throat, as usual... | | |
| Listening to: The Used
So, it happened again - probably because I went out looking for it. Don't misunderstand - I really do enjoy the girlie side of life, with shopping and coffee and such, but I'd much rather spend my time being "one of the guys." With that said, maybe I didn't really have to look too hard. I just felt so right, so at peace. The joy of making someone so blissful has an extremely powerful effect - it is almost like feeling it yourself. This whole thing is like some amazing adventure, with surprises and disappointments, but something new at every turn. That's probably why it is starting to consume me. The desire has turned into a craving, an addiction. I've always been an adrenaline junkie, so this explains a lot. It's the thrill of if, and where, and when. Not knowing when has now become more of an issue for me - the anticipation overwhelms and the disappointment seers deep. It is only healed with a new anticipation. At night, it's most apparent. I hate the night, and I hate being alone here. Sleep doesn't come soon enough to snuff out the lonliness so it festers. Thoughts fill my head, along with heavy, involved questions. If someone can make another feel something so intense, so ecstatic, is it real? Should it be warranted and explored further? Or should it be left alone, to it's own fate, without prodding? My worst question, that plagues me repeatedly, is if I'll ever know what all of this means. I imagine that it will happen again, and I wish that I could say the things that I think when it happens. My fear of getting too involved seems to step in and take over, and I'm left speechless, only my movements conveying, hopefully conveying, what I wish I could say. That I am happy, that I feel safe, that this calms my overactive mind, that I think you are the most perplexing person I have ever met and that this fact continues to drive me deeper into this adventure... | | |
| Listening to: Radiohead
Okay, so I'm incredibly stupid and hurt right now. I shouldn't be, hurt that is - it's just a taste of my own medicine. How many times have I done this to others? Too many. Karma's a bitch, a real fucking bitch. I should have not gotten involved in the manner that I did. There's a way to do it without emotion, I know that better than anyone. I was caught up in the moment, stupidly. Why would I think that it was something substantial? Because that's what idiots do - they put down their defenses, they get hurt, and then they bitch about it. Well, here I am, bitching about it. As stupid as it was, I still experienced something. Maybe it was a reciprocated emotion - guess I'll never know. I thought that it was at the time. That's stupidity for you... So now what? Some drinks, that's what. Drown away this feeling. God! I feel so stupid! It hurts so bad. What the fuck did I do? | | |
|