i'm so terrified to write what i really want. if i don't cover things up in metaphors, or exclude details and leave things vague... will what i have to say mean as much? i don't want to make the same mistakes twice. i don't want to show my weaknesses. i don't want you to see me at my stupidest moments. this is all so self-centered. a universe contained in writing. and i'm the sun. the provider. the creator. me me me. it's sickening, isn't it. but what i felt i can't deny. and this is my safest outlet. pour my wounds into black and white. filling space to construct something beautiful from vomit. i fucking hate the lies. they're lies of omission. but they're still lies. you're on a break. you should've told me. why don't you just tell me these things? please let me go. please please please. that's all i want. i just. i don't understand people. just tell the truth you fucking jerks. it's easy. i need a smoke. yes i've picked up the habit. but hey. i'm the bad guy. and that's what bad guys do. they go down in flames.

i got my apology. finally. i waited so long. and i made him do it. it feels so good. but that could just be the drugs. blood isn't the only thing pumping through my viens right now. i keep smelling cigarette smoke. and it's making me want to. i am so happy right now. and i feel so perfect. so perfect. please don't take this away from me. i know what i want for a tattoo. the word "lupanara". i think it's perfect. please listen to "let it happen" by jimmy eat world. i'm the evil one who said, "gonna let everything just happen." dude i am so on top of the world. if i just sit tight, what i want comes to me. and what i don't want leaves. it's like i'm magic.