joscelyne

The stupid birthday blues have started again. I'm just being a fucking brat.

This is why I hate planning for my birthday. The one time I remember it is when everyone else (close to me) has begun to forget it.

When you wish and wish and wish -- I'm talking about every first star you see, whenever that clock strikes 11:11, whenever your bracelet or necklace's clasp moves to the front of your neck or chest, just whenever you get the chance to make a wish -- and that wish finally comes true, what do you do with it? Are you ready for it when...
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I'm doomed for a miracle. I'm waiting for a sign.

Sometimes I feel like Spider-Man, in the way that no matter what he does, no matter how he tries to help, someone will always get hurt.

"With great power comes great responsibility."

Except that I have no power. All it seems like I have is the ability to hurt those closest to me. I know...
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Don't be jealous that I've been chatting online with babes all day. Besides, we both know that I'm training to be a cage fighter.

We didn't start the fire.

Things just got f u c k e d_u p.

Why, why was I programmed to feel pain? Fucking sunburn and goddamned ugly tan lines.

Have I mentioned how awesome my job is? I get to work with the coolest boss ever and most kickass co-worker in the world. They let me come in with bright pink hair and metal in my face and jeans and t-shirts and knee-high platform boots. I get to skateboard...
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joss + 3 screwdrivers =

"I used to be able to smow bloke rings!"

Woohoo for no work today. Although I must say that I'm sort of giddy about having a sexy new-to-me glass desk to use in the office. Yum.

I finally got my hands on two of the band's songs that were revised. Song #1 sounds incredible now that the bass is on it, which seems like it'll make it easier for me to lay my own...
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Actions speak louder than words. Quit your bitching and just do it already.












If you think this is about you, it isn't.

As I was taking my tank top off this morning to get ready for a shower, the laced strings at the neck pulled on my labret ring.

Fucking ouch, dude.

Question: do you ever get the nagging feeling that you're just a big, lousy hypocrite?

I've been trying to write lyrics to some songs that my band wrote. This particular song has been playing for awhile now and I can't seem to write anything for it. I feel like an idiot because I can't get past two lines. Times like this make me wonder how I ever wrote anything in the past! Maybe I'm just not as creative as I...
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