Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh. I am insane, you understand? That this is me, and there are people who want to converse with a person who would write this, that is not understandable to me. Not that I believe there's anything wrong with me, aside that I'm insane, it's just that these are the parts you'd never see, if we shared a bed. Because you can't mix these. It's impossible, and I know I just wiped blue all over my face. [I don't wash my hands after I paint, I leave them dirty so I can smell the oils and stare at the colors, but tonight it's only blue.] It's impossible. I've tried, and maybe you understand that. I tried with everything I had, all of it. But what kind of person quits their job because they're sick of it? Fuck. This sucks. I'm sorry you read it. Just, fuck. I don't know. Get out of my head and let me eat my ice cream in peace. 7:23 p.m. - 2003-07-28 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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