its so ironic, you're what i pictured you to be
but we find ourselves in less than perfect circumstance
and so it seems as though we'll never have the chance.
well then. i need a new diary site. this one always types
so slow when i have lots to say and i cant have pictures
i am so confused. i cant express how i feel.
i feel angry.
i feel sad.
i feel alone.
i feel dirty.
i feel stupid.
i feel disgusted.
i feel disillusioned.
i feel used.
i feel desire.
i feel amazed.
i feel like driving off a bridge.
i feel self destructive.
i feel everything. like i dont believe anything i feel so
much but as if i dont really feel anything has actually
happened, like a dream that i cant quite remember whether
it were a dream or a nightmare, from parts of total fucked
upedness to parts of perfection.
i am trying so hard to remember that everything will work
out the way it is supposed to, im trying to grasp some
blind faith in fate or destiny or just anything i can hold
onto until i can find the strength to see and feel
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