It's the day after bloodsucking day [entries|friends|calendar] J'existe. C'est doux, si doux, si lent. You try too hard for the perfect beginning. You're so let down when the beauty starts fading. Once beaming with confidence, now brooding with doubt, pack those pictures away and black out. [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

Bye [Wednesday, April 20th, 2005 at 1:33am] [ mood | amused ] [ music | Liars ] Add the_shipwreck if you'd like. 4 blacked out  |  black out

[Saturday, December 25th, 2004 at 12:18am] [ music | Bright Eyes - The First Noel ] Merry Christmas 4 blacked out  |  black out

[Monday, October 25th, 2004 at 8:26pm] Well now. At this point, this journal turns to the traditional form of cowardice practiced by numerous people on this here site. As of the next entry, this journal is now "Friends Only." Yes, I am lame. Fuck you. Actual posting date: Decemeber 8, 2004. (Yeah, I should've done this sooner...as if anyone actually reads this drivel.) 2 blacked out  |  black out

Don't tell me what I already know [Sunday, October 24th, 2004 at 8:49pm] [ mood | Mess me up! ] [ music | Pretty Girls Make Graves - More Sweet Soul ] I should get some sort of ribbon or award or something for being so stupid. Who the hell manages to lose their car keys? Me, duh. I feel so sickly right now, but I've determined that it's just allergies. My nose still needs to be stricken from my face, however. I got a call from somewhere in Ontario today. That was kind of scary. I don't know how to explain that one away. I pretended like I was going to draw earlier. I picked up the pencil and the paper, and sat there, kind of blankly for a good ten minutes before I realized that even if I could draw well, my imagination just isn't vivid enough to come up with a good idea. I don't want to give up on it though. I just want to have talent. Yeah, I can mess around with words, and maybe even have a bit of talent at doing so, but it just doesn't seem like art. It's not a picture, it's not music, it's just words. Maybe, one day, when I write something really masterful, I'll think differently, but not yet. Not now. I can't. Oh well. 4 blacked out  |  black out

You would kill for this, just a little bit [Wednesday, October 20th, 2004 at 4:56pm] [ music | Existentialism on Prom Night ] So, this cat really did a number on me. It's painful to grip the steering wheel with my right hand while driving, or to reach for anything in my pocket. So, basically, I'm some sort of cripple. Except, not so much crippled, as severely discomforted. I complain, because I can, because I like to; I complain because the expression of my discomfort makes it real. No, this makes no sense, good. Yeah, exactly, I don't want you to understand. It's profound, like realizing that you will die, or that the Easter Bunny isn't real. It's all I really have. Don't steal it from me. 1 blacked out  |  black out

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