Tuesday, December 16, 2008


Dear Reader,

I wanted to warn you of everything before it got too late. I want to tell you how everything we ever say becomes parrallel to how what feel in the end. And all the words we meant just end up becoming regrets. I wasn't born this way. I was made this way. I want to tell you that just like them, you'll be another regret. I can't help but feel it.
When you're this far from heaven you can't help but feel like you belong to hell.
I'm telling you this post trauma because I didn't want to ruin the moment. I write these words to remind me to tell the next one...fuck it. There won't be a next one. I write these because it's not fair to you to let you go with out an explanation. I was a child turned wolf. I'm no longer wolf. I'm not even a man. I'm a shell stuck inside of a shell, inside of a shell.
When you're this far from heaven, you can't help but want to go to hell.
I'm staring at the sun one more time. This time I hope I go blind. This time I hope I really die. Heaven doesn't want me and hell doesn't need me. I don't need me.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008


Here I am again.

This is my blog where you all can read what I'm thinking about. For you readers, if I seem at all interesting, don't think for a second that I am. I'm far from it. Every thing I do is something I have done and will continue to do for ever. Self sabotage. I know it too well. Everything ends before it even begins. So don't try to begin anything with me. Maybe I do it to my self cause I want to be alone. Maybe the entire world is wrong in thinking that they're meant to be together forever. Maybe the un natural has become the natural and vise versa. I feel complete in misery. I was born into it. I will die in it.

I want to live in a place where it rains all the time so I can sit at home and have a good excuse to be my self. Where no one can blame it on a chemical imbalance. Where I won't have to leave a room full of everything I need. Give me a guitar, a note pad, records and leave me alone forever. I won't come out till I feel complete. (Never).

I don't have eyes. But I have a mind. It isn't much and doesn't think like you. But it's a mind and it's mine. Maybe I can't see. I do this to my self cause I can't see. I was born with 2 holes in my head. And maybe one day I'll be complete. But I'm not blaming anyone but me. I can't look at you when I speak cause I can't see. I'm doing to die alone and that's fine. I have 2 holes in my hands and 2 holes in my feet. A 3rd hole in my head will make me see.