I'll bleed this skyline dry
Hear Me Out

I like to give excuses for everything and anything. If Im not in the mood to do anything, I idle around.

I let my friends say as they please, but that don't mean I agree with what they say. I just accept that its their opinion.

I can be an ass hole. I can be the nicest person on earth. Just depends on who you are(:

"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." -Matthew 5:8

Complains?
Friday, January 9, 2009

Im on my 9th day away from alcohol. Okay stop wait. I sound likka alcoholic. No no no, Im not Im not! I just like alcohol. Im not addickted, I swear I can live without it, sane or not sane, that's another story luh. But I'll live.

Anthea's rather interesting theory, "If someone has the character trait - they clamp up - they will also have the trait -listening." I must admit, I do clamp up when in comes to super sensitive subjects like my past but if its like me being half gay, then no because well, its reality.

To me, truth is beauty at its finest, no matter how painful it is, I'd take the truth over a lie. I respect anyone who can tell me the honest truth in my face. My humongo ego and pride can take it. Because once I lose trust, its not easily gained back.

I call this poem:

Shut the fuck up, Im not drunk.

Sitting here listening to the lyrics of the song,
its making me feel so strong,
But why must I lie to myself,
it detrimental to my mental health.

The words you said,
they're still ringing in my head.
Maybe all you said is true,
and that we have to see this through.

Im tired and weak,
spare me this talk about freaks.
I know Im one,
and your one just like me.

What good's a photograph,
without you on the other half.
What good's a dream,
without you eating ice cream.

....omg, I know theres the continuation to this poem... but my mind really isnt in the right place, its in 3 different places with 2 different people. Please dont force me.

Lemme just write you the rest in non-rhyming-non-flowing form, there might be some random parts, its just writing whatever comes to my head.

Wouldnt it be nice to have a picture,
a picture with all your features.
My fingers want to burn everything,
my heart doesnt want to keep anything.

My mind is hanging on desperately,
on to everything single thing.
Give me a reason to leave this,
I am talking rubbish.

Here I am listening to love songs,
like some love sick little puppy.
I am just a puppet in your eyes,
I want to defy gravity.

Do you think if I took that leap of faith,
I'll be in His good grace.
No I'll just be burning in hell,
whats that fucking rotting smell.

Oh thats just me decomposing....

ah. too tired to even type anymore bullshit luh huh.

Uhhh...my poem ended back there *points to the line before the last line* (hint: at decomposing)

Why do I bother with you people? All you people ever do for me, is dump shit in my face. Compassion has its limits you know, I aint Mother Theresa, ahhhh stop fucking messing with my head luh. Gone means gone, not gone means not gone. Pick one, which would you like me to be?

Please dont misunderstand, I am sane even without my alcohol.

My day, sucks. Didnt see anyone I wanted to see, saw all the people I didnt wanna see. Now thats fuck'd up.

Merchant of Venice, Shylock, speaks my mood now with his quote: "If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? If you wrong us, shall we not revenge?"

"I am only human, I am not perfect and I dont like to be perfect dammit!"

Now thats just me throwing my little tantrum.