2004-11-13 - 4:13 p.m.
"Can I make this madness go away? My mind to fade has turned the page cause dead and gone is where I lay. The enemy in black and flame. Within this hell is where I play." - Eighteen Visions, "This Time"
Yet another confession: I occasionally watch Leave It To Beaver. Why is it that Lucille Ball, Donna Reed, and Mrs. Cleaver all look the same? They all look like that "You Can Do It!" poster lady.
Anyhow, the episode last night was about Wally having a crush on some hot chick. At the end, he learned that good looks don't really matter. Wally Cleaver, you just stole my heart. Oh, but love is a cruel mistress and I am but a liar.
All I want to do is read/watch The Outsiders for the fourteenth time. Heaters and blades. Leather and pomade. Breaking edge is that ritual I perform every four months or so where I break down, and suddenly half a bottle of rum is gone. I wanted to stay like that forever. My body wanted to die, my head exploded, and I used the most insignificant excuse to kill my liver. I... am... competitive? No. It's just another reason to smite me.
We're kids but we know the score. It's how we learn to love and live and hate and die. It's freezing, and pretending to be Sylvia Plath seems like a good idea... without the whole dying thing, of course.
"The days stretch out into endless fever dreams. I could sleep all day and I will but there will be no reprieve from exhaustion. Spent years thinking I had years but now everything's fragile or shot to hell." - American Steel, "Hope Springs From Somewhere"
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