ExpiredCoolness

When I get nervous, they are what I stare at. Feet. Feet feet feet. That is all I think until I can find the courage to breathe again. And when I can, I open my mouth to speak. And all that comes out is : "Oh. Never mind, it wasn't important." Well, maybe not to you, anyway.

DIARY - Colors I know this is random, but I want to say what pops into my mind when I hear colors. Red : Cross. Sally Hansen. Wounds. Roses. Acne. Ribbons. Lips. Bittersweet chocolate. Alluminum foil. Sex. Orange : Juice. The sun. Girls. Breasts. Lemons. Those markers that smell really good. . . Peaches. Sepia. Tea. Fire. Tongue. Yellow : Daisies. Japanese culture. Windows Live Messenger. Spring. Families. Art. Shitzus . . . Urine. Green : Jell-o. Harry Potter. Stephanie Meyer. Fat chicks. . . Not much for green. Green reminds me of magical shit. And acid. Blue : My friend. Teachers. Bacteria. Sharpies. Roses (Again). Angels. Raccoons

DIARY - Scream I crave your attention. And if I can't get it being good. I'll get it being bad. I'll fight you back and I'll rip you apart and I'll tell you the worst things. . . I don't know any better. I don't know how to get you to love me back. And I'd honestly rather have you despise me than not care about me at all. Diary, I don't know who to blame, I don't know who to hate, I just don't know, I don't know anything anymore. In time, in time. . .

DIARY - I like you. Bastard. I stared at the beauty spot on the side of my lip. "Beauty". It was ugly. It was an ugly little spot that had no right to plaster itself on my face. It did not belong there. I was rather pissed with this imperfection. He's so perfect and stuff. I'm so . . . Not. Ugh, do I sound like that bitch from Twilight? Gross. . . . He hates Twilight.

DIARY - Screwed Diary, I'm sick of being selfish. That poor boy does everything for me, and it kills me, it fucking kills me that both he and I know that I'm only going to hurt him. That I'm going to break his little heart into bits and pieces. Can't the guy do something wrong? Can't he hate me? Can't he hurt me? At least take away some of the guilt. Stop being so perfect. He's such a fucking sweetheart, and I don't deserve him. Not one bit. Why did I decide to get involved in this 'love' shit again? Fuck. Diary, I hate him. I hate him for loving me. Shit.

DIARY - Layers I wish I wasn't so shy. "Shy?" you ask. Yeah, Diary, I'm shy. Sh. It's a secret. Between you, and I, okay? I act so flirtatious and cheery, but that isn't me at all. I hide behind this character that I made up. The silly, happy, slightly stupid, girl that everyone thinks I am; That isn't me!!! I really don't like it, Diary. You know what else I don't like? That even though you'll keep my secrets secret, that you won't help me with anything. Well, Diary. I'm off to go shopping. Hope to talk to you again. Might not be for awhile. I've got a life to tend to.

DIARY - Espression, Escape I realized something today, Diary. While I was here, flipping through the pages in my mind. . . I realized that trying to be 'funny' was how I expressed myself, how I escaped. I remember telling someone, oh-so-dramatically how I felt about them. It sounded so corny, that it simply sounded like a joke. But on the inside, I really do think that's how I felt about them. I don't like it. I don't like being such a damned wuss. Maybe I should stop. Diary, I really wish you were a little more interactive. I feel a bit lonely. Oh well. We'll know. In time, in time, in time. . . P.S. : Sorry for not writing too o

DIARY - Tick-Tac-Fuck No I don't think that there is freedom. We've all drowned our gullible selves in the stereotyping, teenage angsting crap, media, and all that bullshit. I don't own myself either. I belong to this web of intricate lies, fitting in, and pretty much all of the world and it's dumb stuff. I haven't found a way to tear myself apart from society yet. But I will. I swear it. Before I turn twenty-one I will become an individual. And I will live somewhere cool, and none of my friends will be jealous because they will still be so involved in the rest of the world, that they won't even care about having time for themselves. I