Friday, September 5, 2008

a hot chocolate, a donut, and a lullaby,

somehow, i feel that all of a sudden, i've never been too good with sensitivity. today's not the first time, and i'll openly admit, tact isn't someone i would call my best friend.

to mummy and daddy,

i know you guys will read this. i know how much i've hurt you, i know how hateful i sound. but time and time again.. you know? people just get tired. i've never been good at expressing my true emotions, especially when i'm talking to people i really care about. i never do get to talk about what really bothers me, what drives me to do the things i do, because my flair for the language of the heart always finds a way to fail me, at the most inappropriate of moments.

forgive me, please. i've been selfish. i've never blamed the both of you for being angry at me, for having the urge of wanting me out of your lives. moments like those come by, however fleeting, but i catch them. sometimes, telling myself i'm cold, i'm unfeeling, chanting it over and over in my head like a mantra, doesn't work. it still hurts sometimes. at others, i occasionally reach the point where i'm ready to pull my hair out, because the pair of you possess the patience of saints when it comes to me.

to tell the truth, i don't hate you. i don't hate it here. i just need my space and this home's too small. it's never been your fault, only mine, for wanting more and more. too much.

basically what i'm trying to say is that me trying to leave, me wanting to, is not because i don't love you two, not that i don't love my sisters. i do. i love my family, and i wouldn't give it up for the world. but by staying, i know for a fact that it's going to tear us apart.

for a supposedly durable canvas, i really do tear rather easily.

all of a sudden daddy, i find we're more alike than i've ever imagined. maybe that's why we hardly ever have a proper conversation anymore. we clash like the titans, don't we?

everything i've said with that sone cold face, i said out of anger. everything that hurt you and made you cry, though done purposefully, is a cause for regret. i'm sorry. i never should have. i don't have any right to make you feel like that.

i don't hate any of you. i never did.

you're probably wondering why i never said this to you. why the furthest i've gone is to protest against your accusation of me loathing you with anger. really, it's so hard to say. i want to cry, beg you to forgive me, ask for a hug, tell you i love you.. but as everything runs through my mind, the elevator designed to lower it eighteen inches from my mind goes out of order. i lose it along the way, and whatever pathetic excuse for an apology i had is gone, strained, and only the anger seeps out.

my lips (no doubt luscious) and the words they have mouthed have hurt you more times than i can possibly count. i don't deserve parents than you. you've given me more than any other normal child could have asked for. blame me. blame your daughter for being insatiable. blame your daughter for being greedy and incorrigible.

blame me. i know i'm wrong.

you're the best, and i love you both. i don't deserve your love, your help, or your pardon, being the terrible daughter that i've turned out to be.

i'm sorry, mom, dad. you both deserve better.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

without remorse.



three different layouts. it's fucking fun. HAHAA, oh my god i'm so annoying i should shoot myself.

link is here. everyone should have a sign.

I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING.


tsk. they should really have more layouts. ah well. :D
who gives a fuck about chickens anyway. tch.

when calamari rings get broken.

i haven't been updating. i've been too busy. yes, i still haven't canged my mind about moving out, but i have calmed down. relatively.

anyways, potential girlfr has been sweet as pie of late, and i swear, it makes me miss being in a serious relationship. yes,

WHAT THE HELL.

but yes. ohh as tragic as saint bakita's childhood, it's true.

maybe i have mellowed. maybe i HAVE gone soft. horror of horrors, maybe i actually wasn't kidding about finding my conscience. SHIT.

oh gods, it's so much easier to live without, really. i need another whiskey soda or ten, maybe a few more beers, a couple of martinis, perhaps a flute of moet. maybe after that i'll come back to me.

maybe it's for the best. maybe i'm growing up after all. SIGH. the oh so familiar peter pan syndrome. why hast thou not forsaken me?

i promised to be good. i promised my new provider of white rabbit candies that i would be good from now on. if it's anyone who deserves it, it's gonna be potential girlfr. I DON'T LIKE THE FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE.

pssst, does it count as being bad if i don't share my candies?

but,
i really miss having someone
telling ME it's gonna be okay.