this has to be the closest form of life near death that there is. i have given up everything & i haven't the slightest idea to whom or for what. a worthless corpse, over-medicated & under-rested is walking, driving, barely breathing. something must be wrong here. something is very wrong here.
the fucking tears come so easily and everyone tries to make this okay. everyone does not understand that not words, not even actions, nothing can sway a doomed tide. the moon is steadfast in her ungodly course and the waves will follow her directions until whatever end.
this is an unbreakable curse. i am not asking for anything & furthermore i do not want anything. i hope i am making that clear. a rock will never be a bird, so don't fucking try to change it.
written on 2004-09-29 at 3:51 p.m.
she / lost