i found a way away

Среда, 10 Августа 2011 г. 14:33 (ссылка)редактировать + в цитатник +поставить ссылку понравилось!

everything i do is fake

everything i feel i actually want to feel but i do not

everything i wear is ridiculous and ugly

everything i want is sinful\prohibited

no matter what i think

it's bad anyways

i don't even have to try

i can just lie quietly in my bed with my hands bound with barbed wire and listen to what the others say out there on the right side of life

i'd rather be numb and foolish

than live and realise that i was, am and always will be wrong

that everyone feels uncomfortable with me,

that they condemn me on their safeside

'she acts like a slut and brags a lot'

random ranting when there is nothing to talk about, no one to talk to

no one does anything for me, i always do it myself via someone

all i know is a flaw

a tragic blunder - because i shouldn't have known it

there was never ever meant to be anything except this blurry mess inside my head

except this blinding curtain which prevents me from seeing the world clearly

that's why i always bump into sharp corners of people and relationships

that's why i am never the only one

i am a waste, a social beggar

somebody ripped my eyes out causing so much pain that i felt guilty and embarrased

sinking in the ocean of boiling blood i survived because i learnt to love this pain

all i do now is trying to persuade everyone that i am alright

- everyone who cares much enough to ask me about it

with my hands shaking i'm pouring another drink for myself and one more for anyone who would like to drink with me but

no one ever drinks from that second glass

they gave me a rough log and a precious piece of advice - 'be yourself babe' and voila - i am in the sea of despair, my body covered with festering splinters and i can hardly hold my head above the violent waters, clutching the log as it is my only friend and hope i bet i have unlearned to walk and i don't know why everyone else lives so happily ever after

i don't have enough fantasy to be considered an escapist

i don't have enough charisma and arrogance and self-confidence to make anyone respect and admire me with secret garden of hatred in their miserable hearts

i'm not even crazy enogh to be oficially considered mentally handicapped

so i am nothing, a lame, blinded, dumbed down and paranoid creature with red eyes and head full of ludicrous ideas and dreams, always mistreated and misunderstood

with no shelter

no shoulder

no trust

no way

no 'i'.

[dag...365???]

oh, it was a year ago.

[dag 343]

if I sing a song just right, click my heels the correct number of times, play certain notes, or say exactly the right combination of words, everyone who hears me will have the very same forest growing inside their own heads even when i'm gone.

[dag 323]

Oh my, it's almost a year.
The whole damned YEAR!!!!
The 'he' thing, the pseudo-hero has shifted, but it's all the same.
I'm outta everything.
The situation is rather tough: he loves her. The girls who told me that awful grusome sannheten, my executioners, have put an unbearable emphasis on this word: loves. Loves, loves, loves.
He fucking LOVES her.
She doesn't love him back but who cares?

[dag 288]

there are three kinds of periods in our lives:

1) time to get

2) time to have

3) time to loose

and there is nothing we can do with it.

i guess it's my time to loose now. so i'll go loose everything i can and then come back.

[dag 275] oder Ohne dich zähl ich die Stunden

In dem "Ohne Dich" Lied von Rammstein gibt's die Wörter "Und das Atmen fällt mir ach so schwer..."
Ich kann beweissen, dass es völlig falsch ist: ohne ihn geht es gut mit dem Atmen, ganz normal, aber absolut sinnlos.

[dag 273] eller Graut i hødet

They do love everyone but me.

They all are loved.

The ones with disgustingly short fingers, the fattish ones, the smoking ones, the ugly ones, the ones with smelly breath, the ones in strange clothes, the ones with ridiculous ideas in mind, the fallen ones, the silly ones. They are so happy, oh no, they are LYKKELIG. 

And I am not.

Melk, melk, redde meg, er du snill.