currently listening to Leona Naess ballerina
I hate mornings. I hate holidays even more. Right now these two have blended together to give me my own little piece of spiced hell. Blogging from the front steps of my porch in northampton. Hoods up, this crying thing is so over rated. I haven't slept in three to four days, I've quit paying attention. I'm so tired, yet I can't sleep, I'm fine yet I can't stop crying. I'm freezing, yet I don't shiver, and I'm bleeding but I can't feel a thing. I need to go. When everything blends together, like darkness and the ever growing feeling of alone, the only light in this empty world is change. I need it yet I hate it, I can't live without it, yet it's suffocating me, one layer at a time. I'm sick of break downs, tears, love songs, sad songs, music, television, cold showers, waking up, cigarette breaks, bitching, break time, hustling, brokenness, breaking hearts, breaking my own, falso hope, smokes, an endless supply of empty wallets, and cigarette cartons, emptiness. It's time for me to take my final bow, this show is over. Don't even lie from the first number you knew it was a sure flop. And I knew I was sure to fail...we all did.
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