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vibrantmetaphor-blog 11 years
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Word Vomit; I Don't Remember When.
this isn't easy. living in progress, living in action. life moves forward with the every beat in my chest and on my soul, the pain that never stops but come on... it's only the surface. i rip these words out of my skull like a forced lobotomy, piercing holes into my brain and hoping for some kind of positive outcome. some kind of creative relapse or聽poetic breakdown- something that vaguely reminds me of the person i used to be. do people really grow up, or do they just give up on their imagination?
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vibrantmetaphor-blog 11 years
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So, I finally aced this song.
And I feel so proud. I don't know why I ever quit singing.
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vibrantmetaphor-blog 11 years
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I don't like cons. I sniff them out like bombs and condemn them to early detonation. Fatalities? Only one. Your ego.
I'm not your average bear. I know what you do to people for fun.
Call me the bomb squad. Clearing landmines since God knows when. You're not so clever, and I'm oh so fucking wise.
This was only ever going to end in my favor. "Nice" guys may always finish last, but love conquers all.
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If you haven't seen it. WATCH IT.
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Spot all the cats in my general vicinity. Like, the one who just invaded my lap (Zeus!). And the one laying on my desk whose head is barely visible in the corner (Maia!). And the little cat torso behind me (Loki!). THEY LOVE ME. /catladyrant
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vibrantmetaphor-blog 11 years
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I feel so alone.
I wish I felt like I had someone to talk to who would listen, and actually be able to provide some kind of support. I'm sick of feeling like my problems are a burden to everyone else. I always listen. When is it my turn?
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OMG I HAVE A WEBCAM AGAIN. I just sat down and it looks as if my webcam has mysteriously been reconnected. I AM A HAPPY AMBER. YES YES.
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I feel like I鈥檓 wasting away.
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vibrantmetaphor-blog 11 years
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So, apparently I'm never around anymore.
Shit. Being depressed has become a daily activity that makes me far too busy to do things like... you know. Be creative. Or social.
I jumped around in gasoline and struck a spark on a lighter yesterday. I don't remember it. But I have bruises on my arms from his hands trying to restrain me and scrapes on my leg from the grip tape on his moped. The gas tank is broken. I think I might be, too.
I'm going insane. What the hell do I do?
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Jesus shit I've lost like 30 pounds. :D
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Jammie dress. :)
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