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archives

Wednesday, May 12, 2010
 
Happy fucking birthday to me.





Sunday, May 09, 2010
 
My muscles have become cement.

So constricted and starved, they cry.

The pain shows itself for only a moment before it is swallowed down by waves of numbness, and then I feel nothing.

Nothing but unrelenting rocks below soft skin.

Years of inability to control my muscles, now only makes me a slave to them.

The do as they wish.

There are many things out of my control, but those within my power never fail to disappoint.

It is as if all hope is lost.

In his eyes, I see what I imagine is fear and ...lostness...

I imagine he sees the great realization of our failure.
How we cannot exist together.

How desperately I want to try and be accepted.

How greatly I need to be understood.

I'm trying.

I know in my heart he is such a good man, and I believe this.

I know this.

I'm trying for you dear.

But I cannot see above the water anymore.





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