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shame on me
Private
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This spring my class participated in some concert with a bunch of very talented south african people. I know I was there, but I can't remember actually being there. Everyone kept talking about how cool it was, but there I stood, only hours after the show, unable to recall even having been there, with them. Now when I think back, I see myself, I'm not myself, I see myself. From the front. I see the stage, not from the stage, but from the rows. I see myself up there with all of them, like a movie, but I don't remember. It's weird. Everything's weird.
I can't even remember the christmas concert we did two days ago. I know I was there, but I don't remember being there. 
Account deleted




scoff wrote:
Avocovo wrote:
i saw that photo with axl & slash and i remembered why i do like you


here's another one
h0ly shit i love almost all the photos from that gig
but tbh this one remains my fave from them all /
Private
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Avocovo wrote:
scoff wrote:
Avocovo wrote:
i saw that photo with axl & slash and i remembered why i do like you


here's another one
h0ly shit i love almost all the photos from that gig
but tbh this one remains my fave from them all /
that's different concerts
Private
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I miss my faux-poetry. I'm gonna give it a shot, jump at it again. Cringy? Will be. Will definitely be.

Account deleted




scoff wrote:
Avocovo wrote:
scoff wrote:


here's another one
h0ly shit i love almost all the photos from that gig
but tbh this one remains my fave from them all /
that's different concerts
knew that, i should've been more explicit
i'm p disappointed on the reunion tho, like, wtf izzy can ya come just one time & sing with them ? ?
Private
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'I miss it', I think
I was Cruella on the balcony
Drinking it
Smoking it
It was all the ways it ought to be
'What happened?' I ask myself
I lost the coat and now I'm nude
Beating it
Eating it
Been too rude
It's time to go, time to leave
Might return,
might not
Does it matter anyway?
Time is all I've got

Farewell

I'm not mocking me, I'm mocking you, you, you
Shoot me
Private
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Avocovo wrote:
scoff wrote:
Avocovo wrote:
h0ly shit i love almost all the photos from that gig
but tbh this one remains my fave from them all /
that's different concerts
knew that, i should've been more explicit
i'm p disappointed on the reunion tho, like, wtf izzy can ya come just one time & sing with them ? ?
money issues
izzy wanted his share, they wouldn't give it to him
they were trying to make amends of kinds, but it didn't happen because they were all so stubborn
i'm glad steven could join for a bit, although it was just for a couple songs a couple times
Private
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Dear fuckhead,
You're twelve years old, and you wish to die. You're not gonna try it, because you're way too afraid, but you're gonna use it to your advantage, as in, you're going to tell everybody about your thoughts, and you're going to threaten them with your wish to die at whatever moment you think suits, all because you want something that you won't ever get. You're twelve years old, and you hate your statue. You're short, and you're fattening up. Your grandma enlightens you. 'Do you eat candy every day?', she asks. 'No', you lie. 'I don't'. You dream about becoming a teenager, bleach your hair to the point of disaster, wear too much makeup, and hang around with the popular girls.
And so you do. You're thirteen. You've bleached your hair to destruction, and you hang out with the popular girls. You hate it, because it all kicks back on you. People talk, you don't know them, but they know you. You start dreaming about something else instead - you're going to blend in, you're going to focus on school, get good grades, get somewhere in life. And so you dye your hair brown, you wash off your makeup, and you start putting effort into school.
You hate it. You start dreaming about going to parties and fucking boys instead. And at fifteen, that's what you do, more or less. It has you anxious, you don't know how to deal with it. At sixteen, you dream of poetry, nights awake with wine as your only company, surrounding yourself with art and music. So, you do just that. And then you change. You don't want it anymore. You want rock n roll, you want disaster.
So you go out and get it. And you regret it.
And here you are now, nineteen, and you dream of settling down. Fancy dinners with rose wine, maybe a child or two. A house, not too far from town, but still on the country side of things. Marriage.
Don't go get that, nath. You'll regret it, and having a child and regretting it would be nothing less than a pure disaster.
If you get pregnant, have an abortion.
Have an abortion.
Have an abortion.
Have an abortion.
I don't know a lot about life as of yet, but if there is one thing I know about myself, it's that when I want something, and I get that something, then I don't want it anymore. 
Private
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never satisfied with anything, and i never feel a lot 
Private
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Only 7 hours left in hellhole. Perhaps I'll actually survive this time, too. 
I hope I can see him tonight.
It's scary, because I feel like that's all I do, right? I'm always with him. It must look unhealthy, but it's not like I sacrifice other things for it, you know? I was out with my friends on thursday, I'm having lunch with Becca on tuesday. I'm probably gonna go visit my dear grandparents some day this week, too, for an early christmas dinner with them, since I won't join them for christmas this year, but rather stay home with my family. Might wanna try and get in touch with Jessica. It's been a while. 
And what else? Oh, yes. Josef and I are going christmas shopping on thursday.
Looks like I actually am doing other stuff. Just because I'm not out drinking every night anymore doesn't mean I don't have a life, right? I try to tell myself that. 

Oh, gotta find something to do for New Year's too. Fuck, that always has me stressed out. 
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I should have gotten my period this morning.
I didn't.
Please let me get it tomorrow. PLEASE.
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If I'm pregnant and I abort it, I feel like I'm gonna regret it for the rest of my life, and every year I'll be thinking "wow, my kid woulda been this or this or this old now". 
Please, please, please, don't let me be pregnant.

Because of the circumstances. Outer circumstances. I know I'd be able to handle a kid. Maybe short on money and fancy stuff, but my kid would always have clothes on its back and food in its stomach and be so, so, so loved. I'd pull myself together for it, stop smoking, stop drinking. All that stuff that decent people do for their babies. 
But I mean, it wouldn't have a dad. What would I say when it grew up a bit and asked why it didn't have a dad? 
Please let me be infertile for now. 
Private
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still no period
cramps tho but I've been having them for weeks 
Private
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I wrapped a gift in duct tape yesterday
then he told me it was for me 

how rude of him to have me wrap it with duct tape 
Private
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Christmas gifts I've bought so far:
Mom:
gift set from the bodyshop
Brother #1: flask for booze
Brother #2: sweater
Brother #3: gaming mouse, nirvana tee
Brother #4: gaming mouse, star wars tee
Sister: knitted sweater, set of necklace + earrings with her birth stone
Brother #5: pokemonGO tee, lego
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