Holy Buckets

My hands are shaking and my heart is absolutely pumping faster than what I ever thought it could.
No, I'm not about to pass out or anything like that. I just, I want to sit down in a corner, never eat again, and never emerge from the black.
When I finally close my eyes to sleep at night again, I really believe that the next day is better, and truth be told, it is.
But I still can't get over it. I can't. I can't. I can't.
When I see your face, it does give me hell, but I don't think it's a heartache.
I honestly believe that I have a deep-rooted hatred stemming from my toes, and now that I rarely ever talk to you, I'm finally enjoying my life. We both are.
And the simple fact that you actually think you're so amazing as to go out there and do what you want, is a laugh! You're no good at it. You never will be. I'm sorry, but just because you like something a whole hell of a lot doesn't mean that you were meant for it, or you were good at it.
You always come in last, and I hope to God you finally realize that you are not the best. You have always been to narcissistic to let anyone else in, but when you attempted, and iron clad of a heart just shut that person out.
I know this is horrible, but I really hope that you're the person that's sitting on a street corner, trying to bum off a cigarette on your break from working a shitty ass gas station.
Meanwhile I'm getting up at 6 AM, running around, eating right, and hoping that someday I'll be thin enough to do what I dream for.
I'm not good enough of a person inside to hope the best for you, because what you've done to me, and what you've done to other people, it's about your time to let Karma runs it's course.
You fuck other people over, and sit around and laugh as everyone knows what type of person you are. You're just a no good, spoiled rotten, nasty, ugly (definitely inside as well as out), liar, cheating whore.
I don't give a flying fuck what you think, because I know for a fact that you as a person would love nothing more than to see my fall on my face, and I know that if I keep going in the way that I am, I'm not. I'm going to be out there, happy as a clam, as you're sitting at home, crying and wondering how you're pregnant with no one there to support you. But, that's just my hopes for you.
Everything about you is a lie, and you've done it so well for so long, that even if a form of the truth were to actually spew from your small, disgusting fly trap, I don't believe that we as a society could handle this pressure, and we'd crumble.
I can't believe that I would spend my nights crying over you, and I can't believe that at one point in time, every single wish I made was about you.
Don't make one person your everything, because when you lose them, you'll have nothing.

I'm sick of this empty letter from an empty heart/soul/mind/body/.
I'm just completely fed up with everything to do with you, and someday, I pray that you will get what's coming to you.

Just a thanks

Thank you so much mr. Invisible man, for you made me realize that I didn't need all the wrap to finally be seen.
Last night was one of the single most important nights of my life.
What you do for us, your groundlings, makes me feel as if hoping really could be worth it.
I met an amazing new person thanks to you, and as well, my hearts finally being displayed in a way that I have always wanted.
You changed my life, and I was just greatful that you kind of remembered my name :)
Anyway, from the corner of my heart, you have no idea how much I want to thank you

Nose? Check. Heart? Uh....sir, we misplaced that one

I feel it.
The inspiration, the noise, the music, the sound, the triumphant, the craziness- the winter.
It's cold, but I couldn't be more warm hearted as I just sit infront of the TV, watching old I Love Lucy re-runs.

Today was the one where-

In a matter of me updating this, my good mood was obliterated.
Thanks you stupid little bitch.

She Finally Got It Right

I couldn't stop smiling today :]
Today was a good day.

My stomach's rotting with the jealousy

Close your eyes and place yourself in another room.
Another house.
Another city.
Another county.
Another state.
Another state of mind. You're someone else now. You're not yourself.
Look back on what you had, what you want, and what you've got. If you keep doing the same thing, and expect different results- you're doing it wrong.

YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG.
Life: You're doing it wrong. World: You're doing it wrong. Friends: You're doing it wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Every day is a wrong subject and right now I'm failing. I got an 'A' in Latin, but my Pig Latin is far under par. Tiger Woods would be proud of me in the sense that I've got a hole in one in the lesson of failure. My insides are twisting and my outsides are smiling. Welcome to A new Life Jessica.
A corporate song. Could I please just learn how to express what I feel other than a few catchy words? Could I sing about what I want, could I design what I want?

Keep me safe. Keep me warm. Keep me sane. Keep me torn.
Keep me alive. Keep me now.
Now I want to live alive. I want to breathe a breath.
I want to jump a jump. I want to train a train. I want to greet a greeter. I want flames without fire. I want to be whole without you.
I want to be whole.
I want to be me. I want it. I want it bad.

I'm too trendy to be indie.

A Working Class Hero Is Something To Be

The end of the week has dawned, and my eyes are glued to the screen.
I can't lift my feet, for the life has been drained out of me. It was the most rewarding feelings in the world, and even though the pain was temporary, I know that I should do it more often.
I fucking hate needles.
I fucking hate drama queens.
I feel like I want to drop out of the club that I started, only because I know that I could never be the head. My head is filled with useless thoughts, and maybe I should concentrate more on my life.
This is the first weekend where I feel guilty because I haven't seen you. All of you. Not just my little foreign pleasure. He drew a santa clause on my arm today, and got pissed when I tried to wash it off. I don't think he was honestly pissed, but no one can really tell if he's being serious. The accent is too t/hick/.
I've been working on a few more shirts, and to me, I hope they're good enough where people would buy them. I can't keep my mind off of what I would do if this actually takes off. Should I keep printing where I print? I'm in over my head, and hands are flying faster then what my feeble mind can carry it.

Dreaming sighs of peroxide fantasies.
She sings a song of sorry and pity.
This girl isn't loved, but she isn't hated.
It's more like a bad song, she can't get out of her head.
I want to tell her it's okay.
I want to tell her it's okay.
I want to tell her it's going to be okay.
I want to fucking tell her.
But, she's drowning faster into her spiraling tornado, her heart heavy and her eyes sewn shut.
The sleep comes faster and now that it's approached, we don't know what to do.
Let the days keep slipping.
And our feet keep tapping.
And our hands keep snapping.
She see's the hat and puts it on, it fits.
Her face lights up. Her face is lit. She lights up. She takes a hit.
Tell me where she's going.
Tell me if she's going to be okay.
I want to tell her it's okay.
I want to fucking tell her.

What's your vector, Victor?

Tonight was a night that should go down in the history books. Regina Spektor, watch out because the history books didn't forget about us, and even though the Bible didn't mention us, it still feels like life is more then just a game.

He messages me more then anyone I know, and talks to me more then anyone I know, and tells me things that I don't know if I'd ever want to hear. I'm in love with the way that I feel when I think about you- because for once, the butterflies aren't going away. I know that I try to push them in the back of my mind, but, it's so hard when you're the only thing that's going through it. You're racing faster than KENYANS, even though KENYANS aren't really-
I'm done with that reference.

And honestly, I could write about you all day- even though I know you wouldn't read it, and inside my mind is really the only place I can keep you safe. The pen and paper tab isn't safe anymore, and my heart isn't exactly the best lock. I lost it a long time ago, and how it's closed. It takes me longer to accept people and love them, but I never said I was uncapeable of doing so.

Ich bin ein Berliner.
I am a doughnut :|

Smooth moove.

Can I call the Coast Guard? I think I'm in over my head...

Forget about the useless words, the whole hearted verbs and my countless blurbs.
I'm just a bull in a china shop, the headlining reads she's nothing but disaster.
I spill my soul onto a canvas for you, but you just shoot at my (de)feet and tell me to dance. I can't take it right now, and I only heard the words yesterday, so somehow I know this thing could get harder. I wish I could see your smile again, but I just knew it was useless for me to even dream.
"She's Ms. America and I'm just the girl next door."
I know I'm more than the girl next door, because I won't let people have their memory of me be a dull one. I'm a razor in the way that I should cut through your mind, scarring only the best thoughts. But, I still know that when the time comes, and the seasons change, you won't care about me.
And the truth in the matter is that I don't think that I could handle this heartbreak. love in first sight is a bitch, but lose in first love is even harder. And right now I'm the worse player, my score a messily little 0, compared to the all states perfect record.
I knew I was in over my head, and head over heels, but my heart's the worse candidate at the moment.
-sigh- let me mold into what you want because I know that what I am isn't who you want me to be.
It's bad, but it's true.
I'm going to go watch a good John Hughes movie and just remind myself that I could never be Pretty in Pi/u/nk.