yo, that's wack if i'm not the baddest


profile * old * mail * fucking sign it* or how about a nice note? you go forward / i'll go backwards


I ripped out my own hair last night. I don�t know what possessed me to, but I did and it felt weirdly good. It frightened me. I was too high to cry when I read the note; sometimes you wish you were able to feel again, real emotions, not induced. she likes to parachute, I blow. I�m the bad seed of the crowd. When every one else stops, I�m still pushing to do more, different colours, different tastes, if you can take it, I will. I should stop now, but I don�t want to. Fuck it, I look prettier with my pupils dilated anyway.

I can�t remember the last time I just kissed someone. It was a long time ago, when I was one of those girls. Sometimes I have twisted little fantasies about marrying someone who�s hella white trash and having fifty babies and smoking cigarettes until my voice becomes a shadow that runs up behind you. Some people fantasize about cars, big houses, sex with porn stars. I fantasize about falling apart.

The people you hang around with become business partners, no longer friends when you�re in drugs. All you�re ever around is users. You start feeling like everyone who�s a non-user is some kind of enemy, out to strip you of those guilty pleasures that come in plastic baggies.

When you watch those movies with wide eyes and think how perfect your life would be if you were in it, realize you are. Your first kiss, your first love, your first fuck, all taped and spliced into the parts that are exciting to your typical mass media film junkie. I hope to fuck that when I die, the memories going with me are worthy of a million amazing art school film projects.

I think I�m still ten years old and scared of my father and wanting so badly to get away. I think when I sleep with someone, I subconsciously think in some way I feel its wrong and hope I�ll get caught, not because it turns me on but because I wish someone would save me.

d-land