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I don't even know what to write about, I just feel like fucking splashing all my emotions on some fucking page and just screaming out to the world and shit. I don't know. I fucking hate surgery. All these damn meds are getting me so high.

ElsaGabor's picture

Too cool to not be Cruel.

I always seem to find a way to assert my status as a very cold-hearted, damaged individual. I run through a few weeks of being all nice and shit, smiling an laughing; Putting up the ultimate front to mask my loneliness and deep set desperation. Then bam, I make a complete ass of myself, make someone cry, and look absolutely terrible.

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I'm such a moody writer,

it's highly irritating. I swear every post I make is all:


Despite the incredibly melodramatic and moody journal I made last week or so, I'm actually doing the best I've been since Freshman Year. I'm actually sober this time, and I haven't even come near to relapsing. I got good grades, good relationships and a great ass so, things are actually okay :)

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I've been left to suffer.

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Rehabilitated Chasms

I'm withdrawaling.

It's one of the most profound and utterly terrifying things I've ever come to experience. I've been recovering long repressed dreams by simply looking at things that remind me of it. I've had a vision of a lake with giant bonsai trees growing out of the water with geometric cherry blossoms on the branches, a lush forest being flooded, and (this one very frequently) images of some sort of town in Arizona or New Mexico.

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I often have trouble just starting journals. I just don't know quite how to jump into whatever I would like to write. I want to be direct, but not to where its just an explosion in a single paragraph. Also, I have to delete about 4-5 lines each journals simply because there's too much detail. I think too much.

I'm a really bad kid, just saying.

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Dilettante. No fuck that, she's a Cunt.

*First paragraph is moody as shit -_-

Well, clearly loyalty is a dead virtue in just about all humans. Why is it that people can never just be happy for other people? Or at least try to be? But no, we'd all much rather consume ourselves with jealousy and bitterness with an underlying want to make others miserable. FUCK.

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I'm such an irregular writer on here! Kinda frustrates me that I can't muster something of interest as often as many people here do. These past weeks have been pretty chocked full of action and emotion, so I have actual substance to write about (success).

The past week or so was honestly one of the most liberating, interesting, and most needed period of my life ever. Even if some of the things that happened weren't maybe the best, all of it just felt so right. My parents and younger sibling had gone away on a vacation, leaving me home by myself. This called for good times and mischief.

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Movie Star.

It's sad that I enjoy being a damaged person? That my childhood was empty and barren? That I have harmed myself over and over the short years of my life?

Maybe it's just that I long to make up for all the years that my life was uninteresting and event-less, or so I can prove to myself I'm capable of emotion and feeling; That I can overcome anything, and show all the people who put me down that I can handle everything.

Or maybe to build a story, the kind of story that all the great stars had, of overcoming personal despair and wreckage to become bright, shining successes.

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Nothing really to talk about, just thought I'd post this awesome song:

ElsaGabor's picture

Long journal tonight, I have a lot on my mind.

Father's day was yesterday, as you all know, and I guess mine was pleasant to say the least. My aunt and uncle came over to join us for a barbecue, which was nice as I hadn't seen them for quite some time. I got to drink quite a bit, so that was definitely made the day ;)

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I really need to start coming up with better titles.

So yesterday was Vans Couch Tour, which was lots and lots of fun. We'll skip the morning of that day because its is completely uninteresting :) It started to get fun when we we're driving over. I was sitting in the backseat of my friend Christy's beautiful Mustang Convertible with my friends Anuska and Ruby. I can honestly say it was the best 30 minutes I've had in years. The sun was out, the wind in my hair, hanging out with three wonderful, beautiful girls, and just having so much great conversation and laughter.

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Anatomically Correct.

Whores have more fun, and gentleman prefer them, right? Of course, nobody wants to bang virtuous and clean. Which is why I totally hate my life right now. I miss being the fucking slut.

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That Boring Story.

Today was certainly a most mellow day. I got up nice and early to get me a haircut and a brow waxing (shit HURT). Then came home and lazed about pondering what to do for the remainder of the day. Exciting right?

So I decide to call my friend (I don't want to say her name so we'll call her Ruby) and from the moment she picked up I could tell something was up. She had this very low, cold tone to her voice and in the background I could hear her mom talking and it had a pretty stern sound to it. But nonetheless, Ruby agreed to meet me up at the Starbucks by our house.

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Elsa Gabor (Dahling)

Some of you might remember me, I had an account on Oasis. It was Warren3125, the one that posted all those really angry, temperamental journals about drug use and addiction. Yup, that's me. :)

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