forever

I don't feel like I need to justify the way I am to the people who read my blog. If you wanted to know why I'm such a bitch all the time you need to look elsewhere, as you will not find the answer in these posts. All you will find in these posts is the ramblings of a sixteen year old whose mind is coming loose.



photo from here

baby

"They're all gone, is that what you wanted? Because that's what you asked for."



photo from here

leaving

Fuck this. Fuck you.

This is too complicated. I'm done.



photo from here

where am i now

I was so certain, so sure, that I didn't love you, that I couldn't. And now, I don't know. I really don't know.



roberto rubalcava

unfortunate

There's something wrong with me. I don't want to get out of bed in the mornings. I have no motivation to do anything and I've spent hours staring at the desk, or the carpet, or the wall. One minute I'm fighting back tears, the next I'm laughing so hard it hurts, the next I'm trying not to hit somebody. I feel hopeless and drained and empty.



photo credit - eros something

blood

Humans love to play games. They love to manipulate and hurt each other and tell lies. They love to make people believe the wrong things in order to gain a little control in their actions. They love to be false.

I don't, am I still human?



photo credit - russian lady

"judge me"

You're very guarded, because somebody probably hurt you. And now you're afraid of being hurt again so you put up all these defenses. Like a window that's been broken so many times, and instead of replacing the glass you just tape over it, over and over again, until you can't see through it anymore - it's just tape. It won't break now, but it's not a window anymore.



photo by Albert Rasyulis

oh, darling

When I was just a small girl I lived on a farm, with my dad and my brother. One day we were walking around one of the neighbouring farms and we came across a whole field of dead sheep - sheep bones lay in sun-bleached piles all over the grass, tufts of wool were stuck in barbed wire fences. Most little children would have found this sight shocking.
But I wandered around, picking my way through the death, collecting bones here and there. My dad asked me what I was doing. I looked up at him with my big blue eyes (which have since turned green) and said, quite seriously, "I'm building a sheep."

tug

Sometimes I get this feeling like I'm on the brink of panic, like somebody has tied string around my ribs and they're gently, gently pulling, I can feel the worry, agitation, dread and fear swirling around in my chest and I know that there is nothing I can do about it.

And then something bad happens. Every time.



photo credit - popsongs

decay

I heard about this woman, she was a real freak, lived alone and never had any kids. They say she was real old, but I seen her and I swear she looked young. Anyway, she never said a word. I'd only ever see her if she was putting the bins out or getting the mail, she never had anybody over and she never went anywhere. No idea where she got her food from - maybe she just didn't eat. But whatever. So, this woman died in her bed. And because nobody ever went in there, and nobody ever noticed if she didn't come out, in her bed was where she stayed. But I heard that when they did find her, her house was untouched and pristine, and she had this cat - real old, one eye - that was just dozing in the sun like nothing had happened. She'd been dead for ages, they said. And every single day, at six in the morning, her alarm clock had gone off. 'Cause there was nobody who missed her, nobody. Nobody who would come in to see why she hadn't come in to work, nobody who would wonder where she'd been. But, like I said, she was weird.



photo credit - miche hart

I don't know why.

Your face is not familiar to me. I don't know the sound of your voice, of your laugh. I don't know your scent, the real colour of your eyes, what you look like in the sun. I don't think I would spot you in a crowd and I have probably walked right past you and stared right through you many times before.



photo credit - welcome, ghosts

best

1. I can't take it anymore.
2. You don't care.
3. Fuck this.



photo credit - i dont remember

hurricane

1. You're just perfect. So beautiful. You know how to play me and you know what to say, you make me smile and you make me laugh. You know me.

2. You're just perfect. So beautiful. You don't play me, you don't know what to say but you always say it right anyway. You make me smile. You make me happy. You don't know me, and I like it.

I can't let go of either of you.



photo credit - soft collapse