Midnight

she's a burning string... i'm just the ashes

Marilyn Manson seeps through the speakers of a tiny cd
player, and I understand... a tragic melody flows through
the thicking air, and I feel the whisper of the Illness
brushing against my face. "sometimes I feel so worthless,
sometimes I feel discarded" "I wish that I was good
enough, then I'd know that I am not alone" It's madness...
all of this. The autumn is the worst and best time for
me. The cooling air brings back fragments of half-dead
memories. I don't know why, but I think of the past, and
the past is poison. There is a coldness seeping into me,
coarsing through my viens and freezing my blood. My eyes
grow dim and all I want to do is weep. Everything is so
unreal...
I see now that I've never introduced myself... I am a 16
year old girl who loves the dark, the rose, and the
cemeteries. I find I have a fetish of sorts for candles
and velvet. I'm a very strict vegeterian... a vegan. I
have many friends despite being gothic, (which I am told is
not a socially desirable trait), and am in a truly lovely,
dark, romantic relationship with someone I couldn't have
dreamed up more (and I hesitate at this adjective) perfect,
right down to his sad, blue eyes. They say that you are
not crazy for talking to yourself, but you are crazy if you
reply. Well, I tend to argue with myself, vocally, only to
be startled when I realize I am actually speaking out
loud. They call me beautiful, charismatic, frightening,
gothic, and a freak. I call myself my own.
So what if I'm bisexaul? I am a living tragedy in many
ways. My clothes tend to be faded, flowing, or torn, and
almost always black. My makeup is also a cool gray and an
equally icy blue. In the words of Staind, "It's always
raining in my head."
"could you stop the meat from thinking before i swallow all
of it????" This actually sounds like something I would say
in the middle of another of my odd moods... almost like
weeping, though without the tears, only the half-coherent
rambling and the sadness.
goodnight