You're gone

I have a side bar full of little paragraphs,
hints at what was,
but I can't follow them.
"this blog has been deleted"

You know how much I hate not knowing the full story....
So link me bitch!

Self harm doesn't make you special and I never ran with the herd.

You know it was a good night when you wake up covered in blood.

You know it was a great one when you're sure it isn't all your own.

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Blood falls like tear drops,
Rain sheets of miracles.
Answer my prayers,
But wont pick up your phone.
Here today,
gone tomorrow.

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Who needs loving relationships when you can just throw money done a well whilst stabbing yourself in the kidneys?

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If i came out all the girls would love me.
And they'd let me watch them try on clothes.
This is why straight boys wish they were gay.

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Can you taste it in the air..?

You're the needle in the crook of my arm,

you're the blade against my wrist,

you're the powder on my bench,

you're my one, and only. You're the one that kills me.
And i love you.

black/WHITE

wrong/RIGHT
heads/TAILS
win/FAIL
love/HATE

Where'd all the fucking Grey come from?

Computer hum, caffeine buzz.

Sitting here basking in the glow of my computer screen. And in the warmth of distant, cyber arms.
The computer can be like a warm hug some times. It's just the friend you need. These blinking squares below are friends, communicating but distant.
The best thing about IM is you can turn and walk away without even saying goodbye.
I haven't done this in a while. Shit, I barely ever use MSN any more. I just don't need to. People are around when i want to talk to them.
Eh, stuff this, i don't really have anything interesting to say here.
I'm just feeling nostalgic.
Session end.

Losing Time, Losing Mind.

I remember being depressed. Sometimes I still get that way. Recently, I haven't been feeling so crash hot but nothing like I was.
What it got me thinking about was: When did the depression go away? I honestly can't track it. One day I'm ready to put a hollow point through my own face to stop the pain, the next I'm worrying about what shoes to wear with which tie.
Shit, I got boring. Or I realised the futility of drama.

So from an insiders point of view, and with retrospect, I'm going to try and rationalize my depression. This will go three ways. Either we'll get there. Or we wont. Or it'll come back. And then you'll be seeing a lot more of me here.

So. I think it started with my mum. And Hollie. Fuck.
Hollie. My first girlfriend. That was not a good relationship. That was not healthy. I was terrified of her. Of what she could do to me. Of how she made me feel. I'm glad we happened. I'm also glad we're over. Funny thing. I can't really remember anything about her. Anything much at all. It's like it just didn't matter. Lost my virginity to that girl. Doesn't mean shit to me.
And my mum. Hollie and my mum go hand in hand. Mainly 'cause Hollie was there to see it go bad.
My mum and her fuckin' drinking. Drink drink drink. And then shit would hit the fan. Wanna read more about it? Hit this http://newuseforvintage.blogspot.com my old blog. Bitch has a whole page to herself.
Anyway. I think the bad feelings started there. But it all got repressed. Then Lucy came along.
I'm going to firmly place the blame on her.
It's terribly harsh but I feel if she hadn't been as much of a... [I typed bitch here but that's not the word. She was just a 17 year old girl who wasn't in love with me]... to me as she was I wouldn't of gotten bad enough to trigger everything.
But once I was down. It didn't go back up.
Never self harmed. I pride myself on that one. Seems like everybody does it.
Ate a lot of downers though. I think Molly still has footage somewhere of me necking 9 or 10 during a webcam conversation.
Fuck. Jesus shit. Thinking about it now, I'm surprised I'm still alive.
I was so over everything. I was so ready to go.
It's funny. I think what kept me from offing myself was the fact that I let myself be a bad person. That gets me in trouble. The fact that I *embrace* your pain. But it saved me.
I didn't kill myself. I just did my best to destroy her.
Made her cry, made her doubt, made her miss me. Let her go in the end but still.
Lucy. Your pain was my therapy.

Feeling that way was not fun. I'm glad I'm better now. I firmly believe I was sick for a period of time but like any sickness it can get better with the right medication. Or the right care.

I also wanted to add to this, just in case she reads it:
B, I fucking love you. Sorry for invading your privacy. Sorry for doubting you.
Xx

I'm the kind of human wreckage that you love.

I'm run down, exhausted from work and the stress of moving house. I'm so fucking anti social right now. I just can't help it, all these people around me make me sick. I just want them THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!
Seriously.
After the other night, i dunno. Kixxy left and i felt so down. Weird isn't it, when you're feeling lonely you just want to be by yourself?
It's starting to affect the rest of my life. I'm not sleeping too well at the moment, so that affects my work. And when I don't work well I get depressed, and then i don't sleep well.

Not to mention affecting my relationship.
Gah, let's not even start on that one.

Sometimes I wish I was dying. Not for any depressive reason. Just for something to DO.
Life would be interesting if I only had a few months left. I'd doom everyone and just do my own thing.
I think about dying a lot. I imagine lying in some hospital bed somewhere, hooked up to machines beeping and purring. Extending my heartbeat but shortening my life.
I'd be there and I'd call someone. In my imagination it's often Griffin. I'd say
"dude, I can't be here any more. Come out here and get me" He'd come to the hospital and we'd talk for a bit, he'd be telling me that if he unhooked the drips then I'd start to die. I'd have maybe 24 hours left on my own two feet.
I'd make an impassioned speech about not wanting to die "in this stinking, corpse ridden hospital". I'd get dressed and he'd help me out the door, sneak me past orderlies who'd wrestle me back inside if they caught me.
I imagine I'd stagger in to my store in subiaco. If I'm going to die I'll do it in a comfy chair with a big fat cigar in my hand.
The girls would be on shift and they'd be dismayed that I was there, of course they'd know all about what was happening. I'd push past them and select a cigar. Something nice and big, damn the price. I'd have an argument with Simon because he'd want me to go back to the hospital.
And tell him to go fuck himself. I'd pay for it myself, because I fucking earned it, and who cares anyway? I wont need the money soon enough.
And I'd leave.
But here's the thing.
In my mind.
At the end of this fantasy.
I see myself sitting somewhere, maybe on my balcony, and I've made all the important phone calls. I've said my goodbyes. And I'm alone.
I'm sitting there alone puffing on my cigar and slowly, I slip away.
At that point in time. I'm happiest.

I don't wish I was dying. But I really want to be alone.