

Losing ControlA burning sensation grips at my heart. This I have felt many times before, but I cant stop it; I dont try to anymore. It is useless to try and stop it because after it reaches a certain point I can no longer control it and it consumes me - body and soul. I lay on my bed looking up at the ceiling, counting, breathing, hoping it will pass soon. I hate feeling like this, but its this hatred that makes me feel like this. There is coldness in me, a black hole that just erases all happiness from within and only makes me think of the bad. If I had to describe this feeling it would be a mass, much like a tumor, made out of thick blaLosing Control


after wordsThe best words occur between twelve o'clock and two.after words
So, this is my bathroom floor confessional -- my mem-war of a starving artiste bloated by the fruits of idio-angelic praise.
I prefer the term "revolutionary" to "hypocrite," please.
[] Haikus are written in five-seven-five Don't you dare try to tell me otherwise: I'll beat you with my Gideon bible and shout obscure passages to reinforce the bible's identity -- from Ecclesiastes, or, uh, Plato
Hey, why are sex
--
If you keep trying to prove Murphy's Law, will something go wrong?
Find your answer here: [link]
--
La vita, più tardi, sincaricò di domare coi suoi dolori lardente ragazzo, e dopo parecchie stravaganze e altri errori Heilner, se non un eroe, diventò almeno un uomo.
(H. Hesse, Sotto la ruota.)
Previous PageNext Page