"close, but no cigar."
well then what the fuck is the point of the lighter if there's nothing to do with it? well i suppose that i could find a way to ruin your day. whether it be burning these bridges and closing myself off or setting fire to your lawn.
i like to think of myself as capable of being eloquent, but not willing to be. you can call it vulgarity, or stupidity, or whatever the fuck you'd like. do i really look like i care anymore?
can't seem to make the pieces of the puzzle fit together, no matter which way i turn them. sometimes it looks like they'd go together, but now i'm doubting my ability to tell the obvious. maybe it's because this isn't so glaringly obvious to me.
i change my mind as often as i change my clothes. so why should this be any different than anything else?
i half wished that it was you climbing the walls of my house. but i know it wasn't.
your voice almost lulled me to sleep. it gave me a false sense of security anyways, for what it's worth.
can we stop being such a fucking cliche for just one second?
when you said that you were waiting on my lawn, i half wanted to believe you. but i couldn't.
another day wasted getting my hopes up. when will i ever learn?
i don't want to stay down and out. i wish that you could tell me how to be more like you.sometimes i want to believe you so badly. i wonder why i can't.
writing is my new form of therapy. it's much better than going to my room and screaming until my lungs bleed. so say what you will.
and besides, when have i ever wanted your opinion anyways? yeah that's right. never.
all i've become lately is a big "fuck you". and you probably want to shove those words back down my throat.
"i get it. i got it. i gut it."
so why haven't you tried to make me eat anything that i've said yet?
i could show you your insides, but i know that even you're too scared of exposing them to anyone but yourself.
i have a strange obsession with making you squirm. i think it is what i want to do for the rest of my life.
we're all just too fragile. that's why there's a wall around me.
we all put up a facade every day.
when did i ever ask you to try to break it down?
yeah, i didn't think i asked either. but thanks for playing.
the consolation prize of life is disappointment and an eternity of me. in other words, you are sent to hell. it's colder here than you originally thought, isn't it?
everyone's just a letdown. so it's only fitting that i'm the biggest one of them all.
"same shit, different day."
when did i ever start hitting the snooze button on my life?
15 for the rest of my days.
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