deathtoforls

Too much narcolepsy, too much Adderall make Spilled semi-psychotic and longwinded...

I miss your lips
like dust on fingertips
Amidst a cleaning rampage

Stoic configurations
breed quiet contempt
Behind boarded up windows
glass shattered and strewn
Across bare dank floors

Pale breath echoes
weary connotations
Rivulets of apprehension
grace the dusk

And I still long
for the unreachable


Do ya'll ever have those bitter days? The ones where fatigue sets in and any little instance can set you off? I mean ANY instance...like some nauseatingly stupid cunt sorority girl talking like a baby to god knows who on her cell while you're in line paying for gas. I hate to generalize, but I'm a judgemental bitch and "Buffy" deserves it.
So as I stood there with amusing notions of how delightful it would be to pull her intestines out via her face, it struck me. I too, was once 18 and obnoxious as a summer day is long. Granted not to the extremes this lovely skank was, but a miss is as good as a mile.
So what happened to me to cause such bitter hatred for someone I don't even know? I'm still figuring that one. My guess is a string of bad relationships, some drugs, some death, and some backstabbing hobags vaguely reminiscent of Buffy.
I want to go back, and undo what has been done, though it wouldn't change my vehement digust of sorority whores. Spent a long time talking with a friend last night, and I realized just how much anger I have for so many petty reasons. And at this point, I'm not even sure it's anger so much as exhaustion.
Why can't people just fucking communicate like adults? Why must everything be a game and the view simply a facade? I think we were both in agreement...we're too old for this crap.
I'm tired of beating around bushes and silencing myself. I'm sickened by the fact I'll never be as honest as I'd like to be, or should be. Which brings me to this point: can you lie to the world and remain honest to yourself?
The conclusion I've reached is this: when you lie to others, you have to lie to yourself to appear convincing. Over time, you buy your own lies, to such an extent that you don't even realize how deceitful you are being in the process.
I realized for years I've been spewing complete and utter bullshit to everyone, myself included, in an attempt to cope, and it makes me want to retch.
How can one be "redeemed" after a decade of dishonesty? Me thinks it quite impossible, barring some spriritual revelation and decision to lie further by believing in a higher power that absolves all sin.
Sometimes I wonder if I break my own heart for the hell of it. It isn't ignorance that put me in this predicament, but a desire to break and the knowledge of knowing how to make it happen.
Anyone reading this pitiful foray into the depths of my eccentricity/insanity is probably wondering what the hell I'm referring to. Honestly, I don't know. I do know that life is tiresome as of late, and decisions I've made are causing me to question who I truly am.
I am NOT a carefree idealistic 18 year old hell bent on a white picket fence. I'm not solace, and I'm sure as fuck no one's sunshine. I don't see meaning in randomness as I used to, I've quit searching for fulfillment through others, I'm so very disappointed.
I'm disappointed that there was ever a time when I expected my life to turn fairytale. That I thought there was somebody or something that would make it all better. I'm disappointed because I haven't worked harder to do these things for myself.
And all I can do at this point is move forward with the knowledge that at this very moment, the person I am is not someone I particularly care for.
I'm quite toxic today, and apologize for that. As much as I would love to be a beacon of light and happiness, I'm much too weary to give a damn.
I'm going 1,500 miles to flee myself. And ya know what? I could travel 15,000 and nothing will change unless I make it change.
Somedays having a heart is too much of a burden to bear. I could write for days, but I'd simply be regurgitating the rubbish within repeatedly. It saddens me to think some of ya'll on here are actually subjected to me by me in real life. I could try to go back, and pretend to be that girl I was...and maybe I'd buy the lie even more so than you and become her...somehow I doubt it. You cannot superglue glass that has been ground to a fine powder back into it's original shape. Something is lost, and I'm afraid I've finally grown up.