Now I am immaculate.

Don't touch too much — Sun, 15 Apr 2007 08:01:25 GMT

I am in a rage. A rage only accompanied by jealousy. I am in a jealous, terrifying rage, and if I don't do something about it there will be no sleep, no peace. I am in a self-induced anger, an inexpressible gut pain reaction to the fact that someone thinks they can play me when, in fact, they are far too mistaken. How could they not know? I now want to destroy, ruin, and hurt everyone who has attempted this wrong. I want to return to my careless state. I want and I will. I will never again trust individuals with my love, no one knows what to do with it. No more outward games, all inward. They will not know until they are on the floor writhing in depression that they have been conquered. I will never get conquered. They thought they could play me, I should have warned them. I do not give away myself, and if I give a peek at it and then it is toyed with, there has been a grave mistake made. I am not to be replaced. I am not to be pushed aside. I do not ignore this terrible feeling. I do not ignore being pushed aside when I finally decided to give up a piece of control. I will gain it back plus more. She will not exist in his mind. He will be infatuated and haunted by my living, my living many miles away, my living happily without him. He will cry at night, he will realize his mistakes, he will regret. He will watch me proceed to someone else. He will watch me conquer others. He will regret. I don't forget, I don't forgive. I repay. I don't repay adequately, I repay in excess. Repayment never ceases. He sleeps tonight, I sleep tomorrow. He tries to sleep with me, I lay awake. There is no end. I will never lose control. I will become enraged and I will use it. I will be dangerous. I will be irresistible. I will be volatile. This is the old me, welcome back. I have laid new terms. This will be success. I will drink and I will lay claim to all I gave up. Welcome home. This is not the end, but a beginning. A beginning of a war. You have seen no depth like this. Goodnight and Good luck.

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Don't touch too much — Fri, 23 Mar 2007 19:25:56 GMT

"God knows what causes an angel to love a fool, an angel to love a fool." -Great Big Sea --My Romeo lived in Amsterdam, flew to Baghdad, watched the children die. Knew enough to be a man and drowns his head instead of cry, writes about it sarcastically and casts in his own vote to paint green all of Amsterdam and smite Baghdad with hope.--

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Don't touch too much — Mon, 12 Mar 2007 18:25:20 GMT

people are a constant disappointment.

My Blog

Now I am immaculate.

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