i can't be held responsible
she was touching her face
i won't be held responsible
she fell in love in the first place
[[the verve pipe]]
apple computers rule. widgets. that's all i have to say.
god. everything he does annoys me now. so, what? i break up with him and then i miss it? i have all the chances i want to romp in the sack with trouble. i have more time to spend with my friends. i have more time to flirt with my friend's friends. trouble's friends, rand random strangers. i can send a set to SG and not get yelled at. i can go to the club every week and not get yelled at.
but then, what will i miss? not having to pay for dinner, movies, ect. someone right there always to kiss, cuddle, fuck. someone to always do something with. him.
well, i'm gonna have to do it. it sucks he works with my mom, but i've got to. i've got to be selfish every once in a while and i've got to think about what i need to make me happy or at least get me on that track instead of how wveryone at his and my mom's work will react and how he'll deal. obviously, i'm taking that into consideration, which is why i'll break up with him for reasons other that i want to sleep with trouble and he annoys me. but really, i'm having it rough and i need to be a little selfish.
i'm dreaming of running away. of getting all the books i've ever wanted to read and all the movies i've ever wanted to watch and run away. go to another town far away watch and read them al and do random things to blow my money and just off myself. or maybe, when i go to school in the winter, i'll start stripping. it would be good money and satisfy my desire for a secret life, a get away.
i had this hallucination where when i walked into my house there was this man in my living room. he was like seven feet tall and pure muscle. he had a pistol in his hands and a murderous look in his eye. i'm screaming for my brother to get out of the house, but he's got the big brother protection complex and i've got the death wish. so i kick the giant in the ribs and throw something at my brother. he finally runs, in tears, and the huge man gets up. he smack me across the mouth and tells he he wasn't here to kill anyone, he just wanted to steal some shit. and that's when i started to cry and he left. chris has called the cops and walks back in. none of it actually happened, i was frozen on my doorstep with my hand on the knob and tears streaming down my face. i'm so desperate for death sometimes, but i know it can't be by any fault of mine. it would just be too much for my family. but if it was some freak accident, a car crash, a murder, a bike wreck, it might not crush them as bad as suicide. i mean, how terrible of a reaction are you gonna get with - ''how did your daughter pass?" "she killed herself." vs - "a car wreck."
god fucking damn, though. if i go out, i'm making a smashing fucking album to remember me by. with tons of radiohead, you son of a bitch. and no all american rejects, either.
these are the way past midnight ravings of a pseudo suicidal radiohead junkie with a problem boyfriend.
she was touching her face
i won't be held responsible
she fell in love in the first place
[[the verve pipe]]
apple computers rule. widgets. that's all i have to say.
god. everything he does annoys me now. so, what? i break up with him and then i miss it? i have all the chances i want to romp in the sack with trouble. i have more time to spend with my friends. i have more time to flirt with my friend's friends. trouble's friends, rand random strangers. i can send a set to SG and not get yelled at. i can go to the club every week and not get yelled at.
but then, what will i miss? not having to pay for dinner, movies, ect. someone right there always to kiss, cuddle, fuck. someone to always do something with. him.
well, i'm gonna have to do it. it sucks he works with my mom, but i've got to. i've got to be selfish every once in a while and i've got to think about what i need to make me happy or at least get me on that track instead of how wveryone at his and my mom's work will react and how he'll deal. obviously, i'm taking that into consideration, which is why i'll break up with him for reasons other that i want to sleep with trouble and he annoys me. but really, i'm having it rough and i need to be a little selfish.
i'm dreaming of running away. of getting all the books i've ever wanted to read and all the movies i've ever wanted to watch and run away. go to another town far away watch and read them al and do random things to blow my money and just off myself. or maybe, when i go to school in the winter, i'll start stripping. it would be good money and satisfy my desire for a secret life, a get away.
i had this hallucination where when i walked into my house there was this man in my living room. he was like seven feet tall and pure muscle. he had a pistol in his hands and a murderous look in his eye. i'm screaming for my brother to get out of the house, but he's got the big brother protection complex and i've got the death wish. so i kick the giant in the ribs and throw something at my brother. he finally runs, in tears, and the huge man gets up. he smack me across the mouth and tells he he wasn't here to kill anyone, he just wanted to steal some shit. and that's when i started to cry and he left. chris has called the cops and walks back in. none of it actually happened, i was frozen on my doorstep with my hand on the knob and tears streaming down my face. i'm so desperate for death sometimes, but i know it can't be by any fault of mine. it would just be too much for my family. but if it was some freak accident, a car crash, a murder, a bike wreck, it might not crush them as bad as suicide. i mean, how terrible of a reaction are you gonna get with - ''how did your daughter pass?" "she killed herself." vs - "a car wreck."
god fucking damn, though. if i go out, i'm making a smashing fucking album to remember me by. with tons of radiohead, you son of a bitch. and no all american rejects, either.
these are the way past midnight ravings of a pseudo suicidal radiohead junkie with a problem boyfriend.