Oh my god, I just discovered bisexuality!!
I read this one article online about bisexuality while looking for reasons why bisexuality does not exist when I realised that my definition/ idea of bisexuality was all wrong.
For someone so smart ( yeah even if I do say so myself) I am so exhaustingly obtuse.
All I along I figured that bisexuals were just confused individuals with an inability to choose/ or commit to one group (males) or the other (female). In my opinion being bisexual was like sitting on the fence, fearing to make a choice/ decision, being neither gay nor straight and therefore lacking a (sexual) identity altogether.
"down down down...
pick me up i'm falling..."
the woman from which it is said i was forced out off... is driving me insane.
i need to get out of this house. the way that woman goes on and on about everything i am, that is, everything she thinks i am ( fuck she doesnt even know the half of it) and how its not right, or its not enough or ... ugh i dunno anymore, bottom line is i need to change, she says.
The chain smoker’s principle
I loathe emptying my ashtrays
Not so much out of some level of languor
of which I have been considerably blessed
but for aesthetic reasons,
for nothing looks so lonely as one solitary cigarette butt
lying spent on its side in an otherwise empty ashtray
amidst the scattered ashes of cigarettes past
like some carcinogenic secret elephant burial ground
as I contemplatively gaze at my lonely used filter
Today I woke up feeling sad- I’m not so sure why, I just feel a really heavy weight on my heart puling my mind down a dead end path into insanity.
My life is an incoherent collection of events thoughts and actions. Love, life, priorities, choices, mistakes, falling down, getting up, realising and sifting through what matters… what really matters.
What does really matter?
Getting an office job, with great dental cover, a cute secretary and a fantastic leather chair?
“you are everything… and everything is you…
how is it that every night i dream,
i dream of her.
every thought i have,
though few and far between,
i think of her.
every image in my head,
every laugh... reminds me of her-
each element sending salty drops of regret down my cheeks. the tears
tumble down, heated with rage and passion...
how is it that
this heart of mine still loves her?
how is it that i cann
Is love all that matters?
What do we live for? if i were to die today what would i leave behind? what truly significant thing have i done in my life?
i have had love and all things both emotional and physical associated with it. i have had fun- smoking, drinking, one nighters, all nighters, dancing...
AM i done?
have i lived it all?
if not- what more is left?
I surprised myself today. i looked across the cafeteria at the love of my life and instead of feeling a mandatory pang of jealousy, I sat back, chilled and smiled. She was breath-taking. i didnt mind what she was laughing at or who she was laughing with.
It didnt matter.
All that did was that she was happy and joyous, unworried about anything- i looked at her and all my stupid anger fell away from me. Then i picked up my pen and wrote this "story." Finally i can to The End. The End of my story, argument, stupidity, frustration, thoughts. Just the sight of you laughing... living... loving life- changed all that.
sweet dreams of love that haunt a mind
so torn by their insatiable apetite.
they thirst for my soul
slowly dragging images, razor sharp, which slit
the sides of my heart so sensitive to their every move-
splitting my spirit in two...
is that what you wanted?
i'm dead inside.
we all see that which we choose to see.
its so easy to deduce the wrong meaning from a couple of loosely connected words that are put haphazardly in a sentence by the people around us- the people that concern us.
like the time she said:
- God knows what was going through my mind for me to conclude that she LOVED me- as in had feelings for me, cared about me... gave a crap. whereas what she actually meant was...well I wish i knew.
this world is eating my soul away... its going to leave me with nothing.
"My life is pain, a consumptive pain that saps my strength and will, wracking my chest and twisting my gut, driving me to madness and from that madness to the futile strength that comes from a body soaked in opiate dreams. The brilliance of my eyes in the mirror only echoes the brilliance of my mind as the three ghostly ladies of my dreams labor over me, dancing gaily, mocking me. "
( originally titled: losing the one i loved)
Slowly I move my hand up to her face to wipe away a tear, I’m trembling as I watch my life crashing before me. As she lifts her head to look up at me, a drowsy numbness plagues her visage, I fix my gaze upon a flood of questions pouring down from her eyes.
The Heartbreaker,the broken one
The Heartbreaker, the broken one is a special song
Written for a broken girl to sing. If you wish
to sing the song you can try, it does not matter
If you have been broken or not. The song will break you
As it has so many others and you will discover
What I already know, a broken man can't sing,
a broken man can't breathe and I will discover
What no one knows: your breaking point.
hmm guess who's back!!
well havent been typing down thoughts and emotions in a while- just read acouple of my previous entries...damn i was a lost child-- now i'm just a lost Woman!!
well at least i'm a 'grown asss chick'' now
hmm wish i had an ass.
oh well ...
IM in a weird mood. my gf just left me for good.
ah shit happens right?