A few fine words, a stale pencil, a careless thought and an unheard voice

emo tears

Lexi — Mon, 11 Apr 2011 05:19:05 +0000

I honest to God think I have an anger problem. Yeah I know everybody thinks something is wrong with them and shit and blah blah blah but everything makes me mad. Something will happen, I’ll boil up. Another thing will irritate me, and I’ll feel my cheeks reddening. My skin will boil underneath until it goes onto the outer layers and then I want to kill something and shit. I’m the implosive kind. I allow everything to build until I destruct something or someone and it’s just… omg I won’t be able to think. I’ll just lay it out on someone and then I feel retarded afterwords.

Those times I can stuff the anger in confuse me but I enjoy them. Other times I just cry. Let it out in an ironic way. Every time I cry, I feel so weak inside. So stupid and vulnerable and sensitive and fragile. However it’s not even weak to cry. Because sometimes I force every damn tear I have to stay inside my sockets and I just end up weakening my emotional stability and I’ll over cram myself with feelings I try to hold in. Crying is strong in a really weird way; I allow myself to do something society finds weak. I allow myself to feel humiliated and ashamed when I cry. I mena it’s probably dumb to feel so bad about crying but I really do.

It makes me sort of sick inside to feel so bad about crying. Every tear I fall just feels like I’m losing control. I could cry and never stop. I could cry so loud people would hear. I could be obnoxious with my tears. They could over power me and I’d be nothing but a whiny little bitch with an eyeliner stained face. Why does that sound so much worse than ripping linoleum floor in the kitchen or kicking people?

I want to cry so bad. I want to sob and drown in a milky way river I cannot get out of. I hate everything. Everyone pisses me off. I’m so mad at him for being so fucking selfish over something so stupid. And I’m so mad at my own self for not being able to calm down. For being anger at a really stupid and simplistic thing that isn’t worth being angry about. I’m even more mad I could only soak the corner of my eyes lightly after typing this. I just want to kill something.

I’ll hopefully delete this later.

Unconditional love and rainy days

Lexi — Tue, 05 Apr 2011 07:58:14 +0000

Could the rain be anymore romantic? Shit. I guess I’m selfish because he was cold. He hates rain. I love watching it pour. Everything smells so weird but it’s like when your house is bleached and cleaned and scoured and scrubbed. It’s like the earth is getting purged and clean and I love being there with him, getting cleaned as I talk to him and show him who I really am.

And fucking a man. He sure didn’t seem to mind. For hating the rain he stayed with me for two hours as we walked around at stores. I guess that’s what love is. Not even knowing the time is going by, or caring about hating one thing or the other, because the one person you at the moment adore is spending every waking second with you. And it’s like life couldn’t get sweeter.

Up to date?

Lexi — Tue, 05 Apr 2011 07:44:12 +0000

I try so hard to make a freaking blog. I always end up stopping. I mean I’m sorry but I’m not that interesting. I’m not overly smart and into the news or politics or philosophy with a huge amount of opinions and extensive knowledge on those subjects. I don’t do anything fun or interesting. I’m not lady gaga, justin beiber or the cookie monster. My life is with the most, average.

I’m just a problematic teenager with shitty issues. Who really cares? Well lots of people, I guess, considering the youtubers popular for talking about things like cutting their flesh to shreds. Not that I have anything against them. I just personally try so hard to talk about them and then I dry up and flake out and I stop talking about my issues on a blog. I used to wallow in my own feces, pitying my own whorish nightmare. And I may talk about my issues for a lack of anything better to say. But I just wish I wasn’t so shy.

I really will blame my shyness on society. I hate to do that but jesus fucking christ I don’t enjoy the stigma or anything for any of my own problems. It’s like the only thing about me that’s even remotely interesting to a large group of people. But for all the wrong reasons understandably. I know bitching and moaning about pointless and worthless crap is pathetic. But it’s really all I do these days. I’m worthless in that sense. But fuck, people just judge me or treat me like shit for anything, and as annoying as my whining can be, judgments aren’t fun either, especially when I can’t wear a tee shirt in 90 degree weather from a scar or some stupid ass shit.

I just hate to define myself as a person with issues. A basket case to put it to the point directly, even though I honestly don’t think I’m crazy anymore at all. I used to live off that label like it was all I thought I was. But shit, it’s like all that I find interesting. It’s like mysteries waiting to be solved, and I’m not even going to lie when I say that most of what I think about is my problems.

I really don’t think I’ll ever snap out of this. It could be my young age but the effect they played in my life, and the small one they play now reek havock, even if 90 percent of my thoughts and behaviors make them worse. I shouldn’t even be whining. But despite the one million other people who will want to shoot their eyes out after reading this (if they even make it this far) I know from watching youtube blogs that another million of you (lol like that many people will ever this crap) will relate and tell me how awesome I am. As for me, I just need to keep this blog going because I’ve always wanted to have one and my inner emotions are fucking killing me.

I doubt I’ll stick with it but what the hell. Why not try… not like I don’t waste enough time already haha. But yeah… maybe a blog about my problems isn’t too bad… though nasuea says otherwise. WHAT SHOULD I WRITE ABOUT? sfuhsdguhspdig fucking ass shit bitch writer’s block.

I’ve noticed

Lexi — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 05:12:37 +0000

That often when I make a post of myself complaing, I delete it.

Usually we as people…. hell I don’t know what it is. People, including myself, just don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about when they’re complaing.