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ego suicides

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7/21/11 11:27 pm

Life moves on, but can time stop?
Does he ever wonder about us little ones...
Those of us abandoned; lonely;
inconviently feeling emotions we want not to feel

If time knew, would he pick us up, give us a hug?
Would he tell us everything was going to be alright? Or does time never lie?

Continuing in this ressurfacing hate, I draw myself a breath, but the air is putrid and restricted
I have to energy to try for better

Oh if time would stop and help me out
If only time would stop and help me out....

7/2/10 02:29 pm

Nights spent up late writing pessimistic poetry,
Time flying by on paper airplane,
Praying that tonight it will be a good dream,
Knowing deep down it will always be the same.

Days quickly changing
Minutes getting hazy
This skin I wear is just a cover
underneath the tire and rubber
Help me reach my sanity
I'm gone; lost; all is free
Packaged hearts and on-sale love,
teaching myself how to revolve
Station your soldiers, its time for the battle
The shots are being fired, Im drowning the bottle
A seasoned pick, the best around
Now with no one; lost but not found

Give me a shot of that whiskey,
the burning in my throat drowns out the fire in my heart
Give that joint another round,
The high in my brain drifts away the memories of you
HERES A SALUTE- to all those who wished for the perfect hand
HERES A SALUTE- to all those bastards who thought they could cheat and still win
HERES A SALUTE- to all those heartbreakers who thought they could just throw down the cards
HERES A SALUTE- to all those who left with so much still on the table
This sips for you, mother fucker.

5/18/10 03:55 pm

How was I supposed to know the feelings I had were not normal feelings associated with best friends? How was I supposed to distinguish between the love of my life and my first friend? How was I supposed to know that all the late nights spent eating Kraft Diner and ketchup meant more to both of us than friendship? And the butterflies in my stomach, dancing around any time he'd touch me, or the feeling deep in the pit of my stomach every time he smiled that perfect, perfect smile... How was I to know?

His name was Jesse. Jesse James MacEwan. I can only assume it a strange coincidence that my Jesse and the Jesse James of the 1800s share the same strong cheekbones and sunken eyes, as well as their love for trains (although my Jesse wasn't so fluff-brained as to steal from them) and their desire to lead.
Jesse had a saying, "That who is not busy living is busy dying". He said it was something his father would say, which was the only clue I ever got as to what kind of man Jesse's father was. He would never mention him, but nevertheless, Jesse followed that quote to the very pit of his being, maybe even a little too much. Jumping off roofs, clinging from bridges, lying flat on the top of a moving car... His excuse was always, "I'm just living my life, baby!" I can hear him saying it right now: the sparkle in his eyes, the adrenaline pumping in his bloods, and that smile... He had the most beautiful smile. I always felt great when I knew I was the reason for that smile.
I first met Jesse in English class. I sat behind him, watching on as all the other brainless girls surrounding me gawked over him, head in their hands, eyes staring, eyelashes flashing. I wasn't interested in him; or so I told myself. I secretly loved the way his hair was always in a mess, yet at the same time how it was always so perfect. I loved how his worn-out jeans hung loosely on his hips, and how part of his boxers were always showing. I loved his band t-shirts, which snugged his toned arms and stomach, pulling at parts of me I didn't understand. Jesse had the look of "not giving a damn", and he didn't. He would sit through the entire English class and never touch his pencil,

How was I supposed to know the feelings I had were not normal feelings associated with best friends? How was I supposed to distinguish between the love of my life and my first friend? How was I supposed to know that all the late nights spent eating Kraft Diner and ketchup meant more to both of us than friendship? And the butterflies in my stomach, dancing around any time he'd touch me, or the feeling deep in the pit of my stomach every time he smiled that perfect, perfect smile... How was I to know?

His name was Jesse. Jesse James MacEwan. I can only assume it a strange coincidence that my Jesse and the Jesse James of the 1800s share the same strong cheekbones and sunken eyes, as well as their love for trains (although my Jesse wasn't so fluff-brained as to steal from them) and their desire to lead.
Jesse had a saying, "That who is not busy living is busy dying". He said it was something his father would say, which was the only clue I ever got as to what kind of a man Jesse's father was. He would never mention him, but nevertheless, Jesse followed that quote to the very pit of his being. Jumping off roofs, clinging from bridges, lying flat on the top of a moving car... His excuse was always, "I'm just living my life, baby!" I can hear him saying it right now: the sparkle in his eyes, the adrenaline pumping in his bloods, and that smile... He had the most beautiful smile. I always felt great when I knew I was the reason for that smile.

Part One

The play Macbeth. Think as you may, but for me, it brought a smile upon my face like nothing else could. We were studying it in Advanced English 11, and I loved Advanced English 11, not only for the play we'd work on everyday, but for Mr. Turnoil, the only person at Parkview Range High that understood, or even cared to understand, a part of me. Every morning he would smile and raise his coffee in "hello" as we entered the main doors to the school; Mr. Turnoil never used the teacher entrance, he called it "constricted, busy, and stressful". As some odd occurence, we would arrive at school nearly the same time every day, always meeting each other. I always assumed this was because we were routined people-- waking up at the same hour everyday, as well as following the same routine morning after morning, thus leading to arrival at the school premissis the same time every day-- but Jesse helped me realise this may not have been the case. It was strange how I could relate Jesse to almost everything that happened to me in the past few months. He was not only just my first friend ever (aside from Melinda Meldew in Kindergarten) but he was also the first student at Parkview Range to ever say something nice to me, continue a conversation with me or ask me to lunch. Though this had taken him two weeks, my classmates had had three years to do so.

4/23/10 08:55 pm

"we ride in the mouth of madness"

hey, im lesley.

middle name unknown. currently residing on an island. small town girl with so much love for the city ♥

loves fashion. taking pictures and writing are the shieet, toast is yummy

photoshop is basically my boyfriend, & french vanillas are my best friend.

my ipod is the gateway to my own little world. punk and indie rock are my babysssss
billy talent, arctic monkeys, oasis, alexisonfire, modest mouse and rise against are all my second child

in love with nature and the beach, and my friends and my cousins and my family and my pets

a happy person, always seeing the bright side. always wondering why and thinking too much. sees right through people somehow...

in love with a pothead and the past

loves kids ♥ "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" is basically my religion. LIVE LIFE, you aint got another shot

won't take shit from anyone, unless deserved

hit me up with your stories, cause i like sharing mine too

not sure where she i am in this world, BUT IM HERE

4/22/10 11:37 pm

a man, mourning, kneels down beside his bed
"you took him from me God, you took him from me,
my brother, my friend, my brother..."
his tears cascade down his cheeks in waterfalls,
and they fall off the cliff of his nose into nowhere
after a while God answers, but he does not grant the man much
"for each day you live without your brother, the pain will fade,
and for each passing year it will continue to subside"
the man wipes away his cries,
"and will it ever be gone?" he asks the God high above
"no" comes the reply from the God high above
no... no... no...

4/22/10 12:06 am - disavowed

she tells me, "don't worry daddy, i'll be fine,
back in one piece, and home before nine"
sent on her way, with a slivering smile
she crosses the street; she'll be gone for a while

oh, my daughter knows i will be sound asleep
before the sun sets, so she can't hear me weep
what is the point of pretending to be
a good person, a good father to a simulated degree?

keeping my eyes closed, i hope maybe it's a dream
when my baby girl walks in to the same regime
a face scrub, a good cry, and a couple of beers
a hit, a scream and a broken mirror

a cleansing shower just isn't enough
to embarrassingly unstitch the repulsive slough
the men, their cologne, and their clammy wet sweat
all follow my daughter as she crawls into bed

how i wish i could help her, how i wish i knew how
to continue my life, and never disavow
but i always must suffer and deal with the pain
of knowing i will never have my precious daughter back again.

4/21/10 08:36 pm

it's hard to believe so much shit could run in my system,
flow in my blood,
travel my bones

the day you cut it off my body shut down
and my mind froze in landfills of memories

your love was my purpose,
my rainy day,
my song...

maybe i should have known it was trouble all along

4/21/10 08:31 pm - the shadow

a shadow casts a light three feet away
my body is elongated, my legs are lean
my heart is full and i'm graceful;
i'm graceful
my eyes shine but they are red
for i am tired
of being the ugly one, the spare, the nothing

so God please catch me if you will,
as i fall into the black.

9/7/09 03:58 pm

72 icons + 2 banners ( fashion )

teasers


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9/4/09 04:39 pm

45 Icons + 8 Banners

1-18 - Billy Talent
18-28 - Avril Lavigne
28-43 - Gossip Girl
43-45 - Emma Watson
Banners 1-8 - Fashion


Teasers:


we ride in the mouth of madnessCollapse )
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