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Not any more.

i'm beginning to believe i was fucked from the start.

as much as i try not to care, my hardness is only a facade. i do care. i care about people i don't even know that well, and i feel like i'm stuck in this terrible position. it takes more work not to care, really.

my fucking name is carie, for christ's sake.

but this over feeling, this sense that everything is magnified... these roller coasters, and the drama. i'm only a player in someone else's movie now.

when it's over, i'll be towards the bottom, next to the gaffers, or whatever the hell they're called.

i am under the influence.

right now? i'm beginning to not care. i'm entering fight or flight mode, and i always opt for the flight... it's why i'm here, right?

she buys a ticket cause it's cold where she comes from / she climbs aboard because she's scared of getting older in the snow / love is a ghost train, rumblin' through the darkness / hold on to me, darlin'. i've got no where else to go

fuck it.

remember everything she said, but only memories remain

i'll be honest. the only real reason i wanted to go to california was to see bobby. i wanted to look at his face, see if i imagined those 2 years. i want to see the recognition, see the change in expression. he doesn't care anymore... and i don't understand that. i've never understood that. how people turn emotions off like lights.

i'm fresh out of excuses.

12:04 a/m/ - 2002-05-12


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