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shame on me
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why do I care so much? he says he's in love with me yet every day I get the feeling he never wants to see me again, and it's all my fault 

I'm angry, too
not at me and not at him, but at my friend's boyfriend 
he's a jerk, he really is
you know he said I should be on drugs cos maybe if I became a junkie I'd become normal, but I am already normal, right? and he said "firestorm, stop being so ashamed you're fucked in the head" but I'm not fucked in the head
and he keeps suggesting we have a threesome, him, my friend, and I 

I would rather do it with a dead dog 
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I've had three cookies for breakfast
I feel like I should feel bad about it, but my heads killing me and my brother just called me and told me to get my ass down to town and buy him some smokes 
that ain't fucking happening 

and I'm still pretty mad someone told on my friends and I for drinking before that stupid concert we had to do yesterday? it bugs the fuck outta me, ugh ugh ugh
I don't want to go back to school on Monday because someone's gonna yell at us and I'm not very fond of that... I mean, cmon, we're all over 18, we had 5 hours to kill, so we went to a fucking bar
big fucking deal? I don't think it should be,,, we weren't even drunk 
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dear earthlings,
I have now been in hellhole for approximately twenty five minutes. My head is aching and my legs are shaking. I'm sure this is the end. 
The silence scares me. I'm drinking lukewarm water - hellhole has no cold water - and discussing men with my aunt. It has me worried, more worried than the fact I'm stuck in hellhole for the weekend, that the way she describes her horrible ex sounds somewhat like how this dude is. I should probably get out before it's too late, but I cant, because I think I love him.
No, wait: I know I love him. I just don't know if I'm in love with him. 
Do I have to, though? Or is it enough to just love someone? 
Maybe I don't know what it feels like to be in love. Perhaps I just lack the ability.

Why do I center my life around him? 
I'm gonna have some chocolate oat milk and watch a shitty horror now. Wish me luck, I'll need it for my weekend in hellhole.
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Dear earthlings,
After close to twelve hours in hellhole, I've finally found signs of civilization. 
   In the fridge.
Yes, mold sure does count as civilization. See, I was gonna have a slice of bread with cream cheese for breakfast. I did what you usually do: I made coffee, took a bread bun out of the pantry, a knife out of a drawer, then the cheese.
I opened the cheese.
A green cloud hit me like a big, sharp rock.
Oh well.
Good thing there is other stuff. 
It just hit me that today is december 10th. Christmas is in two weeks, and I haven't bought christmas gifts for anyone. Ugh ugh ugh
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Dear earthlings,
I have now been in hellhole for 22 hours. My limbs are trembling, and it's with great effort that I'm writing this. My only joy at this point is that this dude keeps sending me funny cat videos. I like cats.
   If I manage to survive another 24 hours, Josef and I are going christmas shopping on thursday. This is what I need to get:
Mom: a gift set from the bodyshop
My brothers: Steam gift cards
My sister: A nail art kit and maybe a pair of very fluffy slippers
My grandparents: a fancy box of chocolates
My best friend Becca: fluffy socks, a nice scented candle


Dear Lord, please let me survive. I have too much to live for. I'm too young to die. 
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Things I want, not necessarily for christmas, because I'm not gonna ask my family for anything:
- Deviant - the shocking true story of Ed Gein
- Big Brother and the Holding Comapny's Cheap thrills
- A moschino wallet-purse-thingy
- Every Tobe Hooper film that's ever been made
- A pair of really nice shoes
- A new fucking bag. Both of mine are trash at this point.
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Why does he always ask me what I'm going to do tonight? I feel boring if I just go "nothing i'm kinda stuck in the middle of nowhere"
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Who is nath?
I'm a servant, that's all I really am. And I serve everybody - no matter what I say, nothing I do, I do for me, except serving everyone else so that I will get what I want out of my relationships with them. So, basically, I'm using them by serving them. I'm scared. I'm terrified. I'm terrified of getting hurt, so I let no one come near. I make them believe they know me, but they don't. I wouldn't ever let anyone know me. I think it's dangerous to let people know you, because when they do, they know you, and they know your buttons, they know where to press, right? And you'll end up hurt and anxious. I'm so scared of pain and anxiety I keep myself locked up in my head, yet have everyone believe I'm an open book.
Perhaps I should stop that, you know? I shouldn't be so scared. I'm a tiny little fucker, right? A tiny mind. All that. I use people so that they can't use me. A lot of the time, I can't check my phone, sometimes I'm scared of people. Their existence. That I won't know what to say. 
I think I'm a walking contradiction.
On one hand, I want to be free. I don't want to be stuck with somebody, I don't want that shit. On the other hand, it's like "love me, love me, love me, love me". 
I want people to love me, but I go about as if I wanted them to hate me. It's easier to handle hate you know is there than something like Schrödinger, right? I don't wanna be Schrödinger's cat. I want to be... I don't know. I want to be in charge, in control. I hate it when I'm not, I hate it when I have to guess, because in my head I'll paint this perfect picture, and I can't stop myself from doing that, and then when it doesn't go down that way, when things don't go together with the pictures in my head, it hurts. It hurts a lot, I don't know what to do, I'm afraid of it, so so afraid, and so I avoid it, because sometimes the smallest things make me want to kill myself. 
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I so so so so so wish I was drunk right now
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I will be tomorrow
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Has it gone too far? Like, am I supposed to feel alcohol cravings? Because I doubt I am. I think that's wrong. I don't think I'm supposed to crave alcohol. But it's like when I haven't had a cigarette for hours and hours. That's what it feels like. Like, I need a bunch of beers.
I probably need a smoke too.
It's not all the time, but, like, if I see someone drinking on tv or I hear someone talk about it, then I instantly crave it. Or when I'm behind the counter and a customer comes in smelling like cigarette smoke, then I need a smoke. 

No, seriously, I was watching this video, right? Some chick. She has an alcohol problem, and she says "whenever I'm in an environment where alcohol is available, I need to have it" and then "and when I'm at a party, I drink as much as I can, and discreetly, so that no one will notice how much I drink".
I don't think I have a problem as of yet, because I'm aware of what I'm doing, and I don't think I will develop one either, but I do those things, right? When I'm at a party I make it look like I only have a few beers and a few drinks, but every time people look away, I drink up their beers and their drinks, too, as fast as I can, and as much as I can.

It makes me sad that most my friends are going sober now, because it leaves me no one to drink with. I miss when we were out at least 6 days a week. Now I was drunk on thursday, but before that, it had been two weeks. Thank the lord for the minttu in the fridge at home! It's waiting for me. I'm coming home tomorrow.
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I wasn't made for this life, you know? I wasn't made to stay in, I wasn't made to do nothing. Doing nothing has me so restless I don't even know how to breathe, right? I was made to go out partying every night. I was made to always manage to find the shittiest bar around, go there, and fill myself with beer, get into verbal fights with my friends, and act like a fucking asshole. I was made to go to punk shows, I was made to do things, but for the past month, like, since this dude found out he can't drink more or he'll die from liver damage, all I've been doing is staying in being bored. 
I can't wait till my mom has either forgotten about it completely, or made me do that drug test, so that I can start doing that stuff again, because then even if I'm not drinking - because I'm around people that for one reason or another can't or don't drink - I don't have to be sober.
I don't like being clear in the head. I just don't like it. Maybe that's wrong, maybe it isn't supposed to be that way, but I get so bored, I get so fucking bored, I don't know how to cope. 
That's why I think I'm gonna die young, and probably from suicide, because at some point, whether it's now or in ten years, life is gonna come to a halt, people are gonna settle down, and I'm gonna be the only one left. I'm gonna be bored, and not only five days a week, but seven. I can't cope with that.
I'm not saying I have a problem, I'm not saying anyone else has a problem, I'm saying life is the problem. Life is the fucking problem. Life gets serious, and I can't follow. I can't be serious. I can't take anything seriously. 
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It's just that, like a fucking child, I need to be entertained at all times. I can't just sit back and enjoy a movie, at least not without pausing it to go out for a smoke, make a cup of coffee, clean the whole house, go shopping, take a shower, talk with someone on the phone... fuck, the last time I tried to actively watch a movie, when I wasn't hungover, it took me two weeks to get through it. 
I don't know where all my problems came from, because they weren't always around. I used to be able to, one way or another, finish my schoolwork without contemplating death, watch films, read books, stay in, stay calm, but now I'm like a baby on crack. 
And people notice. They look at me, and they say 'either she's on drugs, or she should be'. 

And so here I am, unable to figure out how the fuck I got this way or why. Maybe something actually did break in my brain that time back when I was 16. I think I had some sort of a derealization episode, because I woke up in the morning, I went to school, and it didn't feel real. It was like I was in a bubble of sorts, and I could see the world I was coming from, but I couldn't reach it, and I couldn't interact with it. Like Susanna Kaysen wrote, describing the feeling of actually going insane. Maybe I went insane that day. 
I remember going into school, going to my locker, walking up the stairs. We had english class. I sat down, and people were talking, with each other and with me, but I couldn't answer until they had already gotten to the next subject, because my brain just wouldn't process anything. When people moved, I thought they were gonna punch me. After a while, I couldn't take it anymore, so I excused myself, said I was going to the bathroom, and then I left. I know I went into town, but I can't remember if I walked or if I took the bus. I know I was walking around for a while, listening to Lana Del Rey in my headphones. Then I can't remember anything else. I don't remember if the next thing I remember is watching tv with a cigarette in my hand, or if the next thing I remember is my stepdad knocking on the door to the apartment, yelling because no one's heard from me in days, and I tell him I'm just cleaning the kitchen and that I'm fine and that he needs to leave.
It's such a mess.
And since then, nothing has been the way it's supposed to be. My brain's gotten slow, you know? People say something, I say 'what?', they start repeating themselves, like the first couple words, and all of a sudden it hits me and I can answer. I can't focus on anything anymore. 

Are things always gonna be like this? 
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i saw that photo with axl & slash and i remembered why i do like you
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Avocovo wrote:
i saw that photo with axl & slash and i remembered why i do like you


here's another one
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