2005-05-30 - 10:15 p.m.
"You are so arrogant to me and it's true, the things you say. They make me sick, sick of you. And I'm just like you. You're boring too." - Hagfish, "Plain"
An open wound. A canker sore. I say, screw that. This is what you make of it, and right now, it's nothing but an internal struggle. Inner demons - that's shit. It goes out to stupid girls all over the world. Obsess. Content yourself with drawing meaningless hearts all over your damn notebooks. Well, guess what? I have a hateful one, and it's not a friendly slam book, either.
Follow the fold and stray no more. Take lines from musicals and make 'em your own. Fold it, hold it.
Except from the real Hateful Notebook: Perhaps I've reached the threshold of bitter. Of all the ridiculous things I've done, this whole escapade should be it. So fucking anti and repellent. Suddenly, I'm five again, with all the smiles in the world. Savior. Don't have one. I should give up on trying to find meaning, and focus on trivial matters, like gulping down coffee, since it's one of my specialties. Just get it in your veins. [...] You'll never guess all our suicidal tendencies. Red light district fantasies, and my sanguine life splashing all over. Twenty to life-ers, on this one-way path to successive hells. Successful hells. We're gonna be a damn success, and we'll hate ourselves for not fighting it. These are the paths you've wrought. And rot. Simple error.
"Your issues destroy my heart again. There is no absolution, 'cause really there is no fault - only a drunk, confused anger I must destroy before our friendship gets torn apart." - AmSteel - "Crashing Down"
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