I need them to escape the stabbing pains of nausea in the pits of my stomach, and to stop my long periods of crying and anxiety attacks.
P.s the Xanex were smuggled in from Bali, not prescribed.
So I went to Bali on a holiday with my boyfriend and his family. On the first day I was pissed off at him because I just kept thinking that somewhere on the small and tiny island that was only a few minutes away from me had slept with jake.
Not much story; cute teen though.. maybe a tad reckless. View if bored…
Regarding a topic mentioned in my last journal that seems to have been overlooked:
I'd appreciate it if someone would help me out a bit to get through the weekend. No more class with this guy would be a pretty big deal, so I'm not doing too well right now. There's just been a discomfort following my mood even when my mind's off of the subject, and it's making me feel like shit.
Sometimes I wonder if it's an actual problem that I enjoy being alone so much, or if it's just the society I live in telling me it's a problem.
I recently read an op-ed in the Seattle Times by this young woman talking about Facebook and basically how it sucks (and this hypocrite agrees) because, for example, when she imagines her dream-success, the first thing she can imagine herself doing is posting it on Facebook to let everyone know.
Everybody else is seeing Pat the Bunny and Matt Pless in concert in Baltimore, and I stay at home napping and being unhappy all day. This four-day weekend is going to be boring. Nobody showed up at lunch today, so I had to spend the period in the woods, getting muddy and exploring my mind. Today was the last day of PE, my favorite class, so I get to start listening to bullshit in health and I don't get a period to wake me up in the morning any more, so that's fun.
A tad awkward... but that's likely the norm? Enjoy!
Hey. I was wondering if anyone on here can help me with this:
My name is Max Emerson and I'm a 25 year old international model in the Wilhelmina network. I've recently completed a full-length novel, Hot Sissy; Life Before Flashbulbs, about growing up gay in a small, redneck Florida town.Think Running with Scissors, but with a vengeance. The plan is to self-publish until an adequate number of sales are met to find a large-scale publisher.
-I've strayed from my passion for psychology. It still fascinates me, but I can't really see myself having a career in it, unless it was research-oriented. I was set on a creative writing/psychology double major, but my plans have changed.
Well there I was in my house alone, and I figured I needed to entertain myself with something. I figured I would seach the old linen closet in search of some old books, one in particular though. From what I remember it was of a maroon color and was probably under and inch thick. But one thing was for sure, it was something about Peanuts comic strips.
Brownie points to whoever can tell me where that came from. Hint: it's a very good book by a curmudgeonly author who died about 6 years ago.
Of course, the better title might be to replace "Mankind on Earth" with "my Life". First of all, I'm tired. Of course, I have school with my 5 AP classes, etc, and then I walk from there about 3 miles home, where I have about 20 minutes to eat, not having had anything since before school, and then I do a bike ride for usually about an hour.
I want to start by thanking everyone who made comments on my first posting here, it feels great to be welcomed like that and I hope I don't disappoint anyone with what I write.
Tears of black tears of red
No tears of blue
I don't see where I'm going
he said 'Neither do I
but I know what I'm gonna do
I looked at him and thought
'he's so pretty'
'What a man'
'I'm going with you
Wherever you go.
Whatever you do.
Whatever you say.'
'I'm okay with that, girl.
But if you want
I have to warn you
I got nowhere to go.
I got nowhere to run.
I got nowhere to hide.'
I said 'baby
If you gave me a gun
and told me to shoot
I'd do it
I'd go right ahead
I'd follow you wherever
I've already PM'd with someone regarding this, and mentioned it too implicitly in some of the poems I've posted, but it's at the point at which I feel I need to be explicit about it.
Well it seems that I failed at another thing in life, just like so many others. They found me before I died and I had to go to the hospital and treatment, and well like so many other times that I have been before, I faked my way through it the best I could. Pretending to be happy is easy, because they can't read your mind and frankly at this point there isn't any help they could have given me anyway. Luckily for me I was able to stay on the same meds I have before, because I know my psychiatrist really well. Though at this point they have added another disorder to my list of problems.