your kiss might kill me

Maybe it's just the hangover but I seem to finally be feeling the sting. This week was just a huge mess, what with school and boys and life and boys and what not. Ugh. School is just such a mega failure right now. Nope, that sentence didn't even make sense. That's how great it is. Hurhur. Last night saw a lot of grouchiness.. and alcohol. Fucking lethal combination.Lonely hearts club. I don't remember much yet I always remember what I should forget. Literally woke up, and after figuring out how I got home, jerked up and thought "OH MY GOD NO". You have no idea how uncomfortable this makes me. The past three posts seem to be so contradicting. I think I am more okay than I sound on this space because I only retreat here when I am upset. Though it seems to be getting more frequent these days. Blame it on the (a-a-a-a-a-a-alcohol) lack of company. Contradicting because I never want what I have. I want freedom, no I want comfort, no I want this and I want that. Exactly like me. Speaking of which, your disappearance has left me... not surprised. The only irony is how much you hate people who walk. And yet I guess this is so justified sooooooooo.. I can't say anything. Life. On the other hand, this bitterness needs to end because clearly, I can't let it go. Still. And what is with all this.. tension?

My heart is yours to fill or burst

to break or bury

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane

Too young for this many regrets. Still, I walk around with this voice in my head saying "You should be out there doing all the things you wanted to do when you couldn't." Although things have been fun and reckless-ish (battle scars and all). I guess. Maybe it's because I know this is just pretend. H8 school and the ridiculous.. failure. I feel like a failure doing this. And on top of everything else, comfort is void. More than void really. Alone yet with complications that come with not being alone... yet still alone. Ish. I think I've truly forgotten what it feels like to be this.. what is the polite word for liberated? I still in quietly in the corner, rolling my tongue and "cooly judge people". Hurhur. Though you really can't deny that I have learnt keep my cool in awkward situations.. now. ("FUCK!") Can't deny the ridiculous bitterness but it's nothing we haven't heard before right? Fucking blind spots. Ugh. This anger and bitterness recycle in me, like waves that crash endlessly. Endlessly. It is precisely because I don't want to get used to it that's keeping me so cold. I want it to always sting. Number one douchebag. Why am I really this much of a man? Perhaps this realization is a little late, or maybe everybody's just such a girl. Hurhur. Spent my days pretending; pretending it doesn't exist, pretending it didn't happen, pretending not to see, pretending not to feel.

With every bubble she sank with a drink

Why do I feel this party's over?

I just need to grow out of myself.

Year after year

Last weekend. This weekend looked different. This week saw me extremely cranky, easily irritable and mostly alone. Ish. Last night's show was.. interesting to say the least.Yet another episode of finger-pointing coupled with "I'm too high to deal with this right now, we'll talk about it tomorrow". Hurhurr. I wonder if it's the repercussions of my number one mistake. Though in this situation, I am actually liberated soo.... I must still be figuratively trapped. Hawhaw. Or maybe I'm just overthinking. Ugh. Not even the only lapse this week. Real fucking classy, Abigail. I guess it's pretty obvious where this is. Seems to have soured. Sigh. And the sudden realization (cos I run so fucking much) that I probably have no fucking future on this island. Ironically, I'm probably the only one who actually wants to stay. Life. There are just too many things racing through my mind right now for me to even begin trying to sort them out. These fleeting moments of self-confidence are just that, fleeting. I'm lost in the sea in my own head. Pushing through thoughts and worries and issues, only to find.. nothing. No answers, no clear direction, nobody. It's not now I'm worried about, it's eventually. And for good reason too. Always stuck in my own head, that's all I ever write on this damn fucking blog. In actuality I have actually been getting the fuck out living my last teen years and what not, but I always crawl back in the way I crawl back into my bed at the end of every day. Well, I guess I'm really just a girl.

I think you're already gone

War

At the end of the day,

how are you any different?

You only want what you cannot have.

And you only have your eye on one thing.

And now that it's over and your fucking bed has been made,

It's clear that deep down,
You are no better than I am,

You are exactly like me.
And that my dear, is the biggest insult there is.

Speak up, dear

You know what you don't want

Do you hurt the way that I do?

Well. As usual, I'm supposed to be working but I'm not because I am trapped in my head, alone and scared. Psychologically damaged, I like to say. Pushing the blame for my own hatred. Sat down with a familiar face and finally asking for help. (Why did I think I could do this alone?) Talking a little too loudly, and because I forgot to check a blind spot, listened to myself from a third party's point of view and realized just how fucking needy and whiney I am. Get a fucking grip on yourself, woman. I think you would hate what I seem to have become... have I always been like this?? I don't seem to do recovery too well. "Nothing might happen but that's not what I want to fall back into" echoing in my head. How I really forgotten how unhappy I am? "You just can't handle it" I've been hiding from it for so long now. You would fucking hate me if I treated you the way you treat me. Honestly. She has got to love nobody. Pride isn't the prize, my dear. But every time I let it down, everything goes wrong. Maybe it's just the thrill of the chase and I am just a prize, a mark of victory. Maybe I am just like everybody else. I am aching for a simpler life. I just want something to hold on to, but not just anything. Yet I always find myself in the same position. Gun to my head, threatening voices, hatred. Void of the comfort I dream of. What am I even saying anymore.

By the way

I tried to say I'd be there

I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder

I think about more than I forget

Pull yourself together, woman. I am blaming the sickness, the heat, the lethargy. I am blaming school, the stress, the workload. I am blaming you and you and especially you. It's none of your faults. It's really my own. I never let anything go and when it goes, it all goes. And when it comes, it all comes. Is it just fun for you? Watching as I self-destruct, lose myself in myself and my plethora of selfish thoughts, losing my fucking sanity with my ridiculous obsession with hate. Oh how I fucking hate you so. I fucking hate you. All of you. And if that's just not enough to bear, I am fucking obsessed with just how much I fucking hate you. Any of you. I fucking need to learn to let things go, fucking hoarder. Hoarding emotions in my head, hoarding memories, hoarding lives, hoarding hatred, hoarding love, hoarding bitterness, hoarding every fucking useless thing but myself. Seriously. I don't know if it's just a bad day or that I've just been having good days but I can't seem to get a proper grip on myself. I know what is important. I know what I should do. I know what is wrong and what is right. But I never know what I fucking want. On hindsight, I really fucking thank God I am not going through that again because honestly, I wonder how I even fucking survived back then. Lost and suddenly alone. Though everything I've built back up is coming back down again. Denied. Sneaky little bastard running around slipping bricks from the foundation of my fort, covering me with words and expecting me to survive. Well, words can't keep me alive.

You had to leave

and that's all I can see

This thing is breaking down

Ridiculously dramatic weekend. Yes, someone actually stole our bottle of Martel off our table, amongst other things. Ignoring and just not crossing my mind are two different things. And it always seems to be the latter. But is that really new? I am sick of watching you play the victim. I mean, you know, just sayin'. Not to mention, walking right into... what was even happening there?? And then going back again just to prove a point to myself. Why am I so cool? Hurhur. Seems like it will always be the benchmark, for the best and the worst. Oh well. This weekend seemed to be a lesson about desperation. I think in a lot of different ways we all fall victim to it. Don't settle = lose. Settle = lose. I think I scare myself a lot more than I realize. Or maybe I am still living the repercussions of your words. Because, I guess it's not so bad. Speaking of which, my selfish intentions have finally gotten the better of me. I want it all. Misery for you, my darling? This time I wonder if I am indeed playing the game with myself. Alone. Everybody seems to become the same person. Nothing but blaming and a false sense of security. And perhaps, what I fucking detest the most, a false misery. I desperately want your misery.

So here's to everything

Coming down to nothing

I need you so much closer

So, come on

Waking up so relieved

Making the most of a bad time

I'm smoking the brains from my head

Leaving the coal calling the kettle black and orange and red..

This kettle is seeing red

I'm hoping just a little bit stronger

Fear is my biggest vice. I'm afraid of everything. Afraid of being alone, afraid of not being important, afraid of being ostracized, afraid of not living up to what I know I can be, afraid of being wrong. And yet, I am always right. Or so I think. How is somebody actually as caught up in themselves as I am? Sometimes I think I just need to get the fuck over myself. Ironic that somebody as self-assured as I am can still be so fucking scared of being left alone. I am everything you said I was, and it disgusts me. How we got so deep sometimes just... blows my mind. I can't decide if I meant in the best or worst possible way. Sigh. How long has it been? Maybe it will never be long enough, especially if I continue to flee from it like my life fucking depends on it. But maybe it does. At this rate, I'm just taking shots in the dark. Firing at every corner, hoping to god I fucking hit you where it fucking hurts the most. Where I used to be. To remind you what it's like to fucking feel alive (ironically), to remember what being happy used to feel like. On the other hand, UNIMPORTANT. Surprisingly. Maybe I have also severely misjudged everything. (You know how bad I am with foresight/decision-making/life) Maybe, you're just like everybody else, holding a gun in your hand. Everybody's watching. Your move, love.

Let's write a song that we can dance to

Cos they all wanna listen

Never cared too much about honesty

"The only time I was happy was when you were not."

Well

19th.