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igordog

Los Angeles

Member Since 2005

Followers 15 Following 65

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Friday Jun 22, 2007

Jun 22, 2007
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Last night, my brain felt like a bee hive. Now, my brain is shriveled. Overcooked... stewing in doubt-flavored ichor. Bitter fluid that flows into all the cavities where the diseased parts of my brain have atrophied.

All the insecurities with a specific gravity equal to or less that that of doubt bob to the surface of my thoughts.

Archimedes couldn't measure the human capacity for self doubt.



The heart on my sleeve is little more than a scab. Can it even pump blood anymore? Have I been exsanguinated?
Love is a wound, and my life has poured out through the gash... A bloody mess.
So tired...

All my heart can muster today is the gurgling sound of a straw sucking at the last drops of an otherwise empty paper cup of half-melted ice.

How many hours of sleep deficit have I acquired over the years? An mean of a half-hour a night for thirty years'd average out to 5,000 hours... more than half a year of lost sleep...
gingerkiss:
General: sad yet beautifully written.
Goth: lovely and dark
Or just plan Emo.

Just trying to put a little smile on ur face.
I hope you feel better soon

kiss
Jun 23, 2007

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