Oh My?

Oh Blog, I see I have left you for a while. I've been to sober and content to vent perhaps. Do I believe that I could contain a sober and content life?

I lied.
Though I refused the temptation to drink tonight. Please pause for applause.
I will ruin this by drinking this evening so to speak, as I currently write this within the early hours of Sunday morning. Why is it I am not sleeping at this time.
Twat.

Sleep seems non-existant within my life now. I lie in bed, staring at the lilac rails of the bed above, and think of thoughtless thoughts. My mind is empty. I think of nothing, yet I still do not sleep. Sleep is for 'losers'? Sleep is for the 'relaxed' people'? Yet I wish to be able to sleep, wish to be able to sink within the dream world. I like that world. Images and movement of my own. Wishing for certain events to happen. This is why I like dreams. When I did manage to sleep the other day, by consuming a bit to much alcohol for my liver, my dream consisted of men. Just a line of men. It was not until I woke up, with the wish to violently throw up, that it was all the men of my past, standing in a line. A bit to much I think.


Yeah this is me. Apart from the blackberry. I refuse to join the 'blackberry hype'. Another 'hype' to fit in for the next few months. Who wants to fit it, that sucks.






We spoke about Oscar Wilde today. That is all.

Fingers rape his cavities.

Another late blog. Get some sleep stupid bitch.

Monday Night.

The taste of alcohol. Oh how I love it.
Give me. Give me. Give me.
I applaud myself. My lips stayed sealed that night, unless I was drowning myself with my slight alcohol addiction.

Wednesday.
Damn doctors. How long must you have to wait, for them to just leave you in a more confused state then before.
Pregnant?
Of course not fool. My sadistic ways kept him waiting though didn't it. Just could not resist the temptation to keep him waiting. A little worry shouldn't bother him. Should it.Why do I care to what he thinks?

Thursday.
Stress.Stress.Stress.
Failing perhaps. In life.
Im 17, and so fucked up. This is not normal.
Twat.
But I had some delicious chicken.


He once called me reserved. I saw this and thought of him.

Sex fiend, with a vacant dream

These are the feet of the talented.
Hear me. Hear me.
We are the drama children, and we shall always rule with our slight twat like comments, and the occasional sexual reference.
' Im playing with my nipples' - quote of the day from my fellow actors.

My feet are the ugly looking boot things.
I love these. I feel the power of authority as I walk in these.
Drama feet also seem to have a fascination for Converse I see.

Help. Help Help.
We spoke again. Small conversation spoken. I believe I am not needed anymore. This head of mine used to be filled with such creativity and optimism. Where has it gone. Come back please. I would like you to return. I am obviously talking about my mind here. I think.

Meh. I wish to drink right now, along with other things.
None are avaliable. Sex fiend alert. Help.

You are Anonymous.

So here I am again. Blogging. A release perhaps?
Am I that type of person to which I cannot express my true emotions to society, in which I gotta write about them, to feel slightly at ease.
What am I saying, even writing cannot sort out this mess situated in my mind.

The last 12 hours of the day have consisted of quickening the process of killing my lungs. Asking the mother to buy some more. She knows something is up, but she must not know.

How can one person feel so much hurt? How can one person create this much hurt?
Is this shit natural, or man made?

It's funny how a few typed words, can break a person. Is this normal?
Emotions I never knew existed came appearing out of no where, filling my face with wasted tears. Wasted tears you shall never see. Wasted tears you shall never know about. Why do i care so much?

As much as I should hate you, I cannot. My heart does a funny little movement when I see you appear online. What does this movement mean? It's not love. I don't believe in love. I shall read love, I shall write love, but never allow myself to fall in love. Well I attempt this.

I wish we had never kissed that night. I wish we had never exchanged numbers. I wish we never got sexual. I wish to have never met you. I wish all these things, and wish for them to come true. I hate the fact you shall never leave my mind, and shall always appear in my life when you need me, yet I know we shall never be.

I wish for you to be anonymous.

Please. Stop Now.

I really should have stopped myself when I had the chance.Yet I carry on thinking I am stronger.I fail in the department. What have you done to me?

So I kiss other people, trying to get rid of you out of my head. Why isnt it working?
Saturday night I blocked you out with alcohol, my mind was free of thoughts of you. I shouldn't rely on that to be rid of you. Yet now I think about it, my head slightly turns to alcohol bottle I know that is laid in fridge.

Do I hear it calling my name, or is that my head telling me I have another addiction coming. Telling me to drink, and all will be forgotton. Like the many memories of Saturday night.

Gone. Disappeared.
I wish my memories of you would just go and disappear.
Then everything would be alright. I would give others the chance.
But no. I refuse it.

Richmond Superking is calling me. I best go to it.