and when your heart begins to bleed, you'll forget to find what you need...

good e'ening chaps. whats happening in the wide world of your perception? do you see what i see? do we share the same cognitive process? i would hope not. because my cognitive process works so that it may never be anything more than a thought, a hope, a daydream... like you...

even when everyone is here, the room is still empty to me...

i'll clench my teeth and say that i'm happy, i'll look up and see the sun is shining, on everyone but me. i'll close my eyes and say that i'm happy, i'll open them to find that everyone's gone, i am left to me. i'll put my hands in my pockets and say that i'm happy, i'll look at the ground and kick at the dust, this is what is me. i'll hold my face in my hands and mumble that i'm happy, i'll sit down in the dirt and stare at my shoes, as this is only me. i'll take to my feet and run, whispering that i'm happy, i'll pound my feet on pavement and try to keep my breath, go where my feet take me. i'll hit a brick wall and say absolutely nothing, every cell is screaming for oxygen and i'll remain silent, as i'm sick of me. emotions sour my eyes and i'm not in control, rushing blood meets my head and my head meets the ground, happiness just isn't me...

i feel like hell, you feel like dancing...
i'm a bad blog owner... the last post was the 300th post. and i missed the blogs 2nd birthday on the 11 of october. all i've been doing is writing fucking poetry and stupid stuff no one should ever read. i'm hating this so much, did i ever tell you that i don't enjoy being mean to people. some people get thrills from doing it, but it tears at my insides, makes me feel sick and feel like a failure as a person. i usually remember what i said/did more than them, and then apologising to someone who hasn't a clue what your on about is crap aswell. if i wasn't typing my hands would be covering my face. don't let the light shine on this pathetic excuse for a face. don't let people see what is me. stop me from wrting this endless self-orientated dribble. but this is the only place for it... if only i could verbalise my feelings, my thoughts, my desires... if only i visulise them, if only i could run away, if only i could spend a day without feeling the guilt of doing nothing. if only i could stop time for me and enter my zenith reality. if only... i fucking hate "if only"s.

I'm school captain for 2006 and already i'm doing a crap job.

Found a box of sharp objects what a beautiful thing...

future

all alone,
with a heart of stone,
and i don't know,
if i'll see tomorrow,
whats it cost,
to find the lost,
and i don't know,
if i'll die tomorrow.

whats going to happen to us all,
when we all begin to fall,
what in the future will be found,
to stop us hitting the ground.

the ground. the ground...

i still say,
it won't be today,
the futures not clear,
the futures not here
but it's here,
i'm quick with fear,
what will it bring,
my death for one thing,

whats going to happen to us all,
when we all begin to fall,
what in the future will be found,
to stop us hitting the ground.

i will hit the ground...