probably my eyes. or my hair when it's freshly dyed.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
If you could go only to one restaurant for the next five years, which would it be?
Five Guys Burgers and Fries, bitches. That or any good Chinese place. I don't go out to eat often.
Favorite book?
Oryx and Crake. Or The Heavenly Village. Or To Kill a Mockingbird. Or Johnathon Livingston Seagull. Or The Woman in White. HARDEST QUESTION EVERRRR.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Au Revoir
I made a Tumblr. It's mostly for personal stuff, and stuff that I feel like I'd get shit for if I posted it where people I know read it. It's pretty much an internet diary, meant for voyeuristic strangers who want to look into the life of a fucked-up teenager. Haha. If you're really determined, you'll probably be able to find me, but I won't give hints.
But this is probably the end of any semblage of regular Ne Quittez Pas posts.
FBT OUT
But this is probably the end of any semblage of regular Ne Quittez Pas posts.
FBT OUT
Thursday, March 25, 2010
A Curdling Kind of Feeling
I'm losing it.
There's this feeling in my shoulders and in my spine and it itches because I just want to get out. Out of this fucking town, out of my fucking skin, away from fucking drama and especially out of my head.
I just want to get out of here.
They say that soon I'll be the person I was always supposed to be. But I've never known that person before. What is she like? We've never met. I've been a fuck-up for as long as I can remember. What if we don't get along? Who will I be at the end of this--when I'm the person that I was always "supposed to be"?
I just want to tell someone everything. Have a while to scream it all out, be totally selfish. Indulge my worries. Have them say the right things. Not worry about what they'll think.
Things are shattering and I don't know how to fix them. I want to get out of here. I'm crying for no reason because even though things seem OK I'm still falling apart. This song is playing and it's making me cry harder.
I can't deal with going out of the house anymore. It's too hard. I don't want to flunk out of school or lose everyone, but it's getting to be too much. I can't handle it. I'm trying so hard. Trying so hard every day and I can't even function. I'm losing it. Completely flying off the handle. I can't walk into a dark room because I know someone's crouching in there with a knife waiting to slit my throat. Or stab me. I turn on the light and I'm pumped with adrenaline and my heart is racing and there's so much raw terror in me that it clogs my throat. I hear a noise and I'm convinced my family's been brutally, almost silently murdered in the next room and I can't move because then they'll find me.
I feel like I'm going to throw up. It's taking all my restraint not to throw the computer mouse as hard as I can against the wall. I want to call people and tell them to fuck off even though I'm the one who called them. I want to break things and shock people. Do something heinous.
No. I want to curl into the fetal position and fall asleep and not wake up. I want to get out of here. I want to be a grown-up because somehow that'll make my life so much better. I want to walk down an aisle while music plays and I want to get married. I never will. I just know it. I'm going to screw up somewhere along the line. If I haven't already.
I can't take vitamins anymore because of the viruses. They're in there.
I want to scream for help but I'm afraid of who will hear me. I'm trying to be the cool collected one on the other end of the wires and tubes and LEDs that connect me to someone else right now and be their voice of reason and I'm flying off the handle so I must be doing a shit job. I do want to get out of here, One EskimO. Stop singing that because you know how badly I do. I can't stop listening to you, though.
I need to hold you while I cry my eyes out and have you tell me everything is going to be OK. But it's not going to happen like that because you need the same from me.
Why do people blame me? I don't understand. It's my fault for everything so I guess they have reason.
Doesn't anyone worry about Michigan? There have been earthquakes everywhere and everywhere's going crazy and yet there's a huge faultline in Michigan and we think we're immune because we're America and yet they're going to be next or they're going to be soon and I can see it, can't everyone else? They're so high risk they're so high risk.
I want to scream but I'd wake her.
I wish life was Star Wars because then I'd have a mission and a cause and there would always be something there to guide me and tell me if I was fucking up. And it's space. Space is always quiet.
I'm gonna hurt myself.
I need to go numb, not this fake numb I'm feeling where I just can't feel happy but really numb no emotion at all not this apathetic depression worry that won't go away that's not numb that's stuck. I talk with a flat effect because I can't process happy anymore. It's been 2 weeks of straight depression and longer than that if you count the little breaks of good days when I could laugh and function now I have to push myself I wish I could push myself off a cliff or something but it would hurt and I'm scared of pain.
I'm scared of a lot of things.
I love you I love you I love you I've grown so I need you.
There is a crack in my ring, in the silver from where I've worried it along my finger so much and caused the metal so much stress and it's driving me insane. There's a callous along my knuckle where I kept worrying it and worrying it and couldn't stop. I have hard smooth patches along each finger from where I've rubbed them and ripped at them until the skin is worn-down scar.
I'm so worried about you I'm going to cry and cry and never stop and worry about you forever because I need you.
Why am I such a fuck up? I want so much so much so much you have no idea how much to be normal. I just want to be comforted. That's all I need right now I'm going to cry or die and I don't know anymore. Why am I even posting this? Maybe I'm asking for help. I'm not sure. I don't ever know anymore. Don't ever know at all. I want so badly
to get out of here.
There's this feeling in my shoulders and in my spine and it itches because I just want to get out. Out of this fucking town, out of my fucking skin, away from fucking drama and especially out of my head.
I just want to get out of here.
They say that soon I'll be the person I was always supposed to be. But I've never known that person before. What is she like? We've never met. I've been a fuck-up for as long as I can remember. What if we don't get along? Who will I be at the end of this--when I'm the person that I was always "supposed to be"?
I just want to tell someone everything. Have a while to scream it all out, be totally selfish. Indulge my worries. Have them say the right things. Not worry about what they'll think.
Things are shattering and I don't know how to fix them. I want to get out of here. I'm crying for no reason because even though things seem OK I'm still falling apart. This song is playing and it's making me cry harder.
I can't deal with going out of the house anymore. It's too hard. I don't want to flunk out of school or lose everyone, but it's getting to be too much. I can't handle it. I'm trying so hard. Trying so hard every day and I can't even function. I'm losing it. Completely flying off the handle. I can't walk into a dark room because I know someone's crouching in there with a knife waiting to slit my throat. Or stab me. I turn on the light and I'm pumped with adrenaline and my heart is racing and there's so much raw terror in me that it clogs my throat. I hear a noise and I'm convinced my family's been brutally, almost silently murdered in the next room and I can't move because then they'll find me.
I feel like I'm going to throw up. It's taking all my restraint not to throw the computer mouse as hard as I can against the wall. I want to call people and tell them to fuck off even though I'm the one who called them. I want to break things and shock people. Do something heinous.
No. I want to curl into the fetal position and fall asleep and not wake up. I want to get out of here. I want to be a grown-up because somehow that'll make my life so much better. I want to walk down an aisle while music plays and I want to get married. I never will. I just know it. I'm going to screw up somewhere along the line. If I haven't already.
I can't take vitamins anymore because of the viruses. They're in there.
I want to scream for help but I'm afraid of who will hear me. I'm trying to be the cool collected one on the other end of the wires and tubes and LEDs that connect me to someone else right now and be their voice of reason and I'm flying off the handle so I must be doing a shit job. I do want to get out of here, One EskimO. Stop singing that because you know how badly I do. I can't stop listening to you, though.
I need to hold you while I cry my eyes out and have you tell me everything is going to be OK. But it's not going to happen like that because you need the same from me.
Why do people blame me? I don't understand. It's my fault for everything so I guess they have reason.
Doesn't anyone worry about Michigan? There have been earthquakes everywhere and everywhere's going crazy and yet there's a huge faultline in Michigan and we think we're immune because we're America and yet they're going to be next or they're going to be soon and I can see it, can't everyone else? They're so high risk they're so high risk.
I want to scream but I'd wake her.
I wish life was Star Wars because then I'd have a mission and a cause and there would always be something there to guide me and tell me if I was fucking up. And it's space. Space is always quiet.
I'm gonna hurt myself.
I need to go numb, not this fake numb I'm feeling where I just can't feel happy but really numb no emotion at all not this apathetic depression worry that won't go away that's not numb that's stuck. I talk with a flat effect because I can't process happy anymore. It's been 2 weeks of straight depression and longer than that if you count the little breaks of good days when I could laugh and function now I have to push myself I wish I could push myself off a cliff or something but it would hurt and I'm scared of pain.
I'm scared of a lot of things.
I love you I love you I love you I've grown so I need you.
There is a crack in my ring, in the silver from where I've worried it along my finger so much and caused the metal so much stress and it's driving me insane. There's a callous along my knuckle where I kept worrying it and worrying it and couldn't stop. I have hard smooth patches along each finger from where I've rubbed them and ripped at them until the skin is worn-down scar.
I'm so worried about you I'm going to cry and cry and never stop and worry about you forever because I need you.
Why am I such a fuck up? I want so much so much so much you have no idea how much to be normal. I just want to be comforted. That's all I need right now I'm going to cry or die and I don't know anymore. Why am I even posting this? Maybe I'm asking for help. I'm not sure. I don't ever know anymore. Don't ever know at all. I want so badly
to get out of here.
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