setting fire to our insides for fun

Now that I am rid of the disease and my karma for the month, I can think clearly again. This weekend was spent lying through late nights with lots of weird tension and no moves. Not so cute. At some point, I simply couldn't concentrate my vision enough to even look at the words on the screen because my mind couldn't get past the idea of my life and how I screw around with it. I think the first step is to stop painting myself in a bad light, and the second is to actually change my ways. It's harder than you'd think. I've lived like an explosive teen for too long. It's high time I've learnt that at the rate I'm going, I will (probably) regret doing something more than I'd regret not doing it. Two things come to mind. The first time I actually said no to something exciting I questioned myself, but I know that in the long run it's more strategic. Walking away last night was not hard (lol). It's fucked up but I don't feel guilty so much as I feel annoyed and suspicious. Which makes no sense. It's really true that I just need some thing (read: person) to obsess about because quite frankly, most of the first week's thoughts have strangely disappeared. On that note: god you're a fucking bitch. Moving on. This paranoia is not unfounded, I know. It's what I spoke of before - about how feelings never seem to be real and that boys simply wish to conquer and possess me as some sick proof of their manhood. Of course with all these hours spent talking cock and chasing the wind, I'd like to think that somewhere, no matter how fleeting, that some part of that connection and that jealousy is real and is true.. but I know better I guess.


I heard you found out 
that he's doing to you what you did to me
ain't that the way it goes?