yo i think i'm losing it. i space out all the time. and i have these scenes of random violence flash through my head. like it's fucking fucked man. i just get lost in these scenes of gore and destruction. it's the weather. and it's bringing back all this shit. but it's showing some beauty too. i really really feel pretty. i do. and i'm not trying to be cocky i'm just saying. i'm happy. yeah i'm also pathetic. i feel like a crazy person because i'm still not over him. fuck meeeee. haha i'm retata. it's not true. you can't get over someone by getting under someone else. no matter how fucking good they are. but yeah all i see is violence. i can't sit still, i gotta fuck shit up. like no, i really NEED to. you can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick.

i'm trying so hard to keep these keystrokes quiet. so as not to be heard and wake the others in this place. i fucking love being the only one up. the only one alive. everyone else resting cadavers. temporarily dead. lost. forgotten. annexed from this world. fuck. i felt so awkward today. but people still like me. it's reassuring and odd. but not unwelcome. i just feel bad. because i know i should probably care in return. but i just can't. i can't feel it. i don't get it. and sometimes i feel like i'm just not sane. i don't feel crazy. i just feel fucking different. afflicted i guess. today was just fucking wierd. so so wierd. i can't even- okay. i normally don't journal this way. don't list my days activities, i usually just record my broken reflections. because i'm fucking scared to be too open. even here. in this anonymous and insignificant place. haha what a joke. but... here we go. i do not get along with the people in my school. but there's a sacred few who i can tolerate. for minimal amounts of time. and that's rare. i usually can't spend ANY time around the denizens of this town. stuck up bitches and douche bag boys. no. but they still randomly enjoy me. despite me constantly berating them. they ask me how i'm doing, when i sit by myself. compliment nearly everything i do. affectionately play with my gauges. tell me how lovely i look. i really feel like the kid i babysit knew i had been crying. he had that look that says he knew. then his dog threw up. but i literally never cry. that was the first time in over a year. fuck you owl city. bringing up buried memories. FUCK that shit. i'm usually so angry and frustrated when i write here. but not tonight. i was barely offensive at all. who the fuck am i right now? it's okay i'm on drugs i'm on drugs i'm on drugs.

fucking fuck this shit. sometimes all i can even bare to think about is how fucking small this place is. my world is so contained. and it makes it so difficult to move on and forget and rebuild. i literally cannot forget a single thing here. because everyone is everywhere. i need a bigger fucking fish bowl. hahahahaha this place is such a fucking shit show. shit show. shit show. shit show. let it be known i swear without malice. these are just the words that best describe my frustration. best convey the way my fists shake from being held at my sides. so i don't bash their fucking heads in. don't hit these fragile walls... effffff.

why is it everyone seems to insist on cheating with me? i honestly feel like guys look at me and think, "hey. i could definitely cheat on my girlfriend with her." fuck that. whatever. if you don't care about your chick, then i don't either. so come on over, i'll make you feel good baby. girls are fucking idiots. it's true.

fuck this shit my chest is killing me. the ache in my ribs. this bone cage is clenching tight around my delicate and fragile lungs. FUCK. leave them be, they're just little babies. get drunk. get stoned. get fucked. don't sleep. smoke more. smoke more. smoke more. fake tattoos. ow my baby. ow. my vernacular is forbidden. nothing but dirty words. because i like to spit. why swallow when i get to see the looks on the faces of women. women who see me spit. ahh that look of disgust makes my day. my bloody fuckin day.

my dreams are fucked man. but last night's was so perfect. all his friends love me. they fucking LOVE me. do you get that? no one can understand. and he was there. but he was awkward. i ended up shouting to no one. "i can't stand this fucking place!" and i said it right there. right in front of him. then i walked out the front door, and slammed it right in his perfect face. he doesn't understand how i can be so angry. it sets my blood on fire. makes me fucking livid. fuck. FUCK. ugh i need to punch a wall. to release. i want to shout at him so badly. but i won't. because i'm the fucking shit. i'm the shit. but that boy. the preppy one, his lung collapsed. he makes me fucking angry too. he tells me i'm going to hell. that i need a better relationship with God. he refuses to stray from his form of religion. won't even entertain my thoughts, just tells me i'm wrong. fuck you. don't get all religious on me when you were the one cheating on your girlfriend WITH ME. you fucked me. don't you dare forget.

my name is casanova. i'm basically a man... good god i fucking love a man with swagger. give me a punk. a good old fashioned, honest to god, anarchy loving, mohawked, leather jacket wearing, pierced and tattooed asshole with his middle finger raised in the air like a victory flag shouting "FUCK YOU AND EVERYTHING YOU FUCKING STAND FOR YOU PRETENTIOUS MOTHERFUCKS." fuck me. my ex fit that description perfectly. and i am weak enough to say i miss that little jerk. we used to be fucking great. we'd go to casualties shows and he would kiss me. right in the front row. but he's gone now. and all i do is chain smoke and walk around in the cold, looking for a new him. but the truth is, he did all the work. he came to me. so now i fucking wait. in this godforsaken place. where all i do is wait. i kissed that preppy boy yesterday. i hated it. hated it hated it hated it. he tasted like chlorine. it felt so wrong i wanted to puke. i'm gonna burn this place to the fucking ground. swear to god.

...screaming put your hands in the sky, he says, give it up boy give it up or you're gonna die. you'll get a bullet in the back of the neck, in the back of the neck right between the eyes. one of my favorite memories: it was fucking cold as hell, and it was snowing. soft and grey and the snow muted everything. there was no sound. i was in the parking lot. it was just getting plowed and the man in the plow was staring me down. staring me down as i chain smoked and he drove by. but it looked so fucking pretty. watching the smoke in the soft and grey and silent. i flicked my last cig, walked towards the store. stopped just as a family was walking by. and i threw up in front of their little girl. laughed and walked away. you should've seen the looks on their faces.

i'm like a fucking saint over here. exhale your anger baby. let me save you. you can yell, you can scream, you can spit. you can hurt all you want. release. release. just pour it out. let the cascades of your rage drown out these idiots. okay? okay.

this video is beautiful. is beautiful. is beautiful. is beautiful. is beautiful. when i was having surgery i could taste the blood. the blood.