if youre ever lonely

and you're feeling shot

cook up another hit, tap

all the bubbles out

fuck your family and every bit of happiness

shoot it up

shoot it up

You were right.

Dry your eyes, dont let them see you cry
drown it out with a bottle
drown yourself in it, sink in to your own misery
everything else that I own is just a shitty piece of art
nobody's staying...i dont know if i want anyone to

Im so fucking stupid.
I dont even know what I want.
Everyone should just leave me.
It would be best really.
Really?
...trying to find that answer.
What am I doing here?
What am I doing with my life? 
I don't know what I want, and that's as fucking honest as I can get.
No idea what I want to do with my life.
No idea... about anything.

Resisting every urge to kill myself tonight. This shit sucks. I suck.
Im a pretty fucking horrible person, it's awful. I see it in everything that I do, and Im trying but I guess I'll always be a wretched human being. I fucking hate myself.
Im sorry. Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, for everything that I have done that has ruined something for everyone else. I have this habit, you see, of screwing things up for everyone; I don't even mean to. Hell, I try not to.
It sucks, it fucking sucks.
I hate being me, I hate the life that I'm living now and I hate everything about myself.
Looks like this is gonna be another sleepless night.

i am just one great big dwallop of failure.
I NEED TO
DECIDE
WHAT I WANT
I HATE MYSELF FOR NOT EVER KNOWING
I AM PLAYING LIFE LIKE ITS A GAME AND ITS NOT
ITS NOT A GAME AND IM HURTING PEOPLE I NEED TO MAKE UP MY FUCKING MIND
i just dont know where to begin

So
there is
we are only just
scraping the surface
its so much deeper and there is so much more
to
everything
than we thought

Theres a boy up there with sunken red eyes in a hollow face, skin stretched across bone, and all of his clothes
hanging off of his limbs like misshapen hangers in an empty closet. Ill-fitting.
He sits on the street corner with a blanket over the holes in his pants and his fingertips creep out from under the blanket just to pull it higher. The gloves with no fingers.
And then in minutes the wind picks up
and the rain comes down and its almost below zero
but he stays the night and watches the sky as it changes colours in the light of the night and

Three days ago we talked for hours and days before,. we talked all night. I really miss you bro, everything we talked about... and you were always there for me; obviously I didn't do enough for you.
I still can't believe it, I think I block it out mostly. You're still around, you'll be back soon, you'll talk to me again tonight, we'll sit drinking together again... its actually painful when I realise you are never ever coming back for the rest of my entire life; ever. That it's the end, really the end, of your life.
I guess I never gave it much of a thought; dying. Living, yes; and what I thought was death was really just the opposite of life. There's no way to see all of the people devastated by the fact that youre gone... you just left your sadness here with us, I guess.
I would like to think that you're looking down on me. That when I sit and I talk, that you can hear me. Or at least understand that I'm sorry, if I could turn back time I would change everything and hopefully it would be enough.
I know nothing I could have said would have stopped you. But Im still caught in the tangles of all the things I never said, all the things I'll never say.
People that used to laugh at you don't laugh anymore. The sad bit? They don't remember.
People you never knew say that they miss you. They use the fact that we have all lost you as a way to get sympathy and it just fucking makes my blood boil. They never fucking spoke to you. They aren't missing you every fucking day, every single fucking day. They're using you... even now. You should fucking see them...
guess you can't.
I'm planning on getting a tattoo soon, in memory of you.
I had a job for a while, but I lost it. I wish I could talk to you about it all, there's just... so much going on at the moment.
I miss you. I miss you a fucking lot, every day. And every night I feel the emptiness, the space where you used to be, the hours that you would fill up the night talking with me.
There's no point to this. There's no real point to anything. I just wish I could talk to you, even though I would hardly know what to say. Im lost for words even now, although I can feel that lump rising in my throat which is either words or tears and Im not sure which.
I could write for hours, but what good would that do?
Oh and that lump in my throat was tears.

happiness is only real when shared

Blank spaces. Blank moments. Hours, days.
What's happened while I was gone? ...something's changed and I'm ... confused.
Im scared. What do I do? What did I do?
Forgiveness isn't tossed around an awful lot anymore, I guess I ran out of chances while I was running through the past.
We're all running from something. Im running from myself, and I don't think I'll ever get away.
Something's happened...?

she thought she was innocent until she lost it
until the needles got the best of her and
she feels safer in the eye of the storm but theres miles to go
before she gets home

Where are you I need you so much even though I need to learn to stand on my own but I am breaking atm, I can't hold myself together
Please
Please pick up the phone
Just let me know I am not alone tonight

I miss you and all the things you left out
its quiet and it eats away like an acid
like the ghost of yesterday, something you were so afraid of
and the shadow of tomorrow disappeared in the light but
you left us all behind
theres no postcards or letters of books or phonecalls or talking
there is nothing
just an empty gap inside us when you sunk below the surface
it wasnt slowly removed, but pulled out from under our feet like a rug
lost our footing on the top stair
all of us trying to will it to just be that moment when you expect a stair to be there so you take another step
and the fleeting, falling ice inside when you feel as if you are falling
but rest firmly on the ground, having reached the top of the staircase.
This is like trying to wrap a house in string, Im missing pieces, Im leaving gaps
things dont quite fit in together and theres odd shapes that should be there but I can't quite name them
Im not sure I can even see them
although there are some things you cannot see but you know are there
like your body in a box, below the surface of the grass... we know that is real
you are not a body; you are a soul, you have a body
so where did you go?

Open, close
see the light and turn around, please don't break
not just yet because there are too many things that I have left
left unsaid
when I used to breathe the air before I realised there was a limit
a stop in time, a break in the wavelength... a flatline
and I guess you never got close enough for that final beep cause yours
it was silent, you slipped away in an instant
quietly, desperately, hopelessly
I see it all play out and I feel it all string out all of the bones in my body,
and play them like sick drums, with knives
what did you think you would find? I think I could ask that
to anyone and to everyone who breathed the same air and felt
that sudden stop and then the breaks and the jarring and the solid walls that fall away in places
that emptiness you hold yourself up on

All these things I thought I was living in
were really living in me and
if I opened my eyes again by the time morning breaks
would it really feel free to
break like a wave on the rocks and turn
back into something new
recreate
remove

I don't know how I am supposed to get to work every morning when it's hard to get out of bed. It's hard to get dressed. It's hard to do my hair. It's hard to catch the bus. I'm not tired, I'm exhausted. Of everything. Depression is physically crippling. I don't know how long I can do this, how long I can play this game; pretending that I am okay. As embarrassing and disgusting as it is, my drive is for the money. I need it to pay back debts and buy alcohol to drown in, so I can pretend to myself for a while... so I can escape. I'm trying. I'm trying so fucking hard, but there's no gaps, no breaks, no time for me to just sit and grieve and let everything wash over me, so it all just hits me at the end of the day. It hurts. Everything hurts. And I know that when I crash and burn that it will be spectacular.

I don't know how I am supposed to get to work every morning when it's hard to get out of bed. It's hard to get dressed. It's hard to do my hair. It's hard to catch the bus. I'm not tired, I'm exhausted. Of everything. Depression is physically crippling. I don't know how long I can do this, how long I can play this game; pretending that I am okay. As embarrassing and disgusting as it is, my drive is for the money. I need it to pay back debts and buy alcohol to drown in, so I can pretend to myself for a while... so I can escape. I'm trying. I'm trying so fucking hard, but there's no gaps, no breaks, no time for me to just sit and grieve and let everything wash over me, so it all just hits me at the end of the day. It hurts. Everything hurts. And I know that when I crash and burn that it will be spectacular.

IM NOT REALLY "OKAY"
I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO SAY IT
OR WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT

Nights like this where I'm stuck in the past, questioning all the choices I've made. Regretting. Seeing all the things I could have done with my life, and then looking now... at what I made it.
I feel so very purposeless, so empty. I'm running out of time.

How do you feel when you can't sleep at night?
when your thoughts keep you awake, and alone, you lie and stare at the ceiling for hours
theres a bit of the paint in the corner of the room that's peeling, theres posters with corners falling off the wall
and somewhere in the darkness you know that theres a table with a razor without a blade
and the blade is in your hand and your blood is on the sheets
clench your fist to hide the shame and burn yourself against the grain
as you're trying to find the words to say, 'no;
'Im not okay,' but instead you stutter, and youve lost that word that will almost explain it,
an empty space
the sudden absence of a word leaving
a gap
like the gap in your flesh where the blade has been

Sinking in, folding under
concave
enveloping surrouds
like the mouth
in the dark with the teeth
knashing
and sawing blades
through the sea and the waves
beneath the sky and the stars
we burn ourselves new scars
we sink
and we breathe
and we cease to exist.

Peel away your skin, press your broken hands against your bones; breathe in the blood that keeps you here. Open, close; repeat. Breathe: inhale, exhale...
Cut. Carve, peel. Remove? Empty. Search; ...seeking.
Lost with no direction, alone... ultimately waiting to die (again, alone); wanting to...
the balancing act between the two sides, the empty void being the piece that will crumble... to create something that will last when everything is gone.
Nothing lasts forever.

I hurt myself again tonight
I dont even know why
...everything is okay
I miss it, I crave it and even though it doesnt look like one, it's a fucking addiction
I can't stop
I don't want to stop

Take me away
from the flesh and the bone
to the stars and the sea
drown me in the deep

my bones can stand
amongst a miriad of sand
for all of time
drown me out to sea

stones in pockets
pants with holes in the knees
sand under fingernails
a thousand miles deep

16 years more than I wanted to be
walked into the ocean
and breathed in the sea
and the sand

Solitude

My skin falls away from my bones
the light leaves
past, present, future; combined and
   ultimatly destroyed in a breath
lives lose, years gone
you find yourself staring at the clock on the wall at 2am
   empty

I've got a reason to get up in the morning, a reason to stay up at night, a reason to try to eat, a reason to live. And nobody knows the whole huge story cause I think that Im actually going to live my LIFE now, im just scared cause I always say stuff at the wrong time and I dont know what to do...
i feel like a person again
like a real person with feelings
and nice stuff that happens
idk

i suck at all of this writing vaguely crap
so i put it all on my secret one
but I wish I could say it all here

i'll leave you alone now.
im confused.

Shes leaving, she packed her bags
Bags of hopes and dreams, and all the crap in-between
She's leaving tonight.
Closing doors behind her
There's a pretty fucking long path infront
So she grabs the whisky, takes a swig
and it leaves a burn in her mouth
Like all the words she never said
She lights a smoke and the smoke trails behind her
Shes never going back there again
She's going
Wandering,
She doesn't know where, but she's following this path untill it ends
Wherever that is
It could be today
Tomorrow
This week
Next week
Next month
Next year
All she knows is she's going.

how do i say all these things inside me?
never really meant it before i dont think
i think this is something really important
so i gotta wait for the right moment

i miss you

and i really suck at words right now, nothing i think ever comes out right
everythings really clumsy and i dont know how to say anything

im really stressed out
this whole 'getting your life together' shit is hard,
its not what i expected at all,
considering the real reason i was dropping out was so i could get stoned and drink the days away
without worrying about school
but now
i'll be in jobs 38hrs a week if i get it
and im scared
what if i dont want this?
i need the money though, really
but i dont know what to think about myself...
this is the turning point...
do i grow up now and leave everyone else behind?
cause im gonna lose alot of my time
and my friends, the ones i have left,
and im gonna miss everything about who i used to be
especially not giving a shit

this is hard because i have to actually care, and im scared
thats just it, i never thought i would admit it
but im fucking terrified
im not ready for this
how come everyone else got it so easy??!!

Everything was going so well untill you said that. Just fuck off, stop thinking you know what's best for me. It's my life. Stop being so fucking condescending.

There's a part of the circle where I'm supposed to fit in, but I can't figure out where and I don't want to break anything. I feel like theres ssomething staring me in the face and I'm missing it.
I'm sorry I'm always dragging you down, I'm sorry I get weird, that I have no money and I'm really awkward and unattractive. I'm sorry that I always fall asleep when we're talking, and I'm sorry if I'm not good enough.

I wake up sprawled across the bed, rub my eyes and sit up, tangled in the sheet. A morning breeze whispers past the curtain and into my room. I wrap the blanket around me and stagger out to the kitchen, grabbing my pack of smokes and a lighter on the way.
I make coffee; black. No sugar, no milk.
The sun is pulling itself lazily up over the horizon, lighting up the sky with soft hues of red and purple. Somewhere in the distance, beneath the sound of the highway nearby, birds are calling. I open the door to the back deck, lighter between my teeth as I step out and shut the door with my foot.
I sit down in my hammock, pulling my blanket tighter, my feet curled under me for warmth. The breeze picks up slightly; my hair falls around my face as I sip at my coffee.
Lazily I light up a smoke and watch the sun rise as I finish my coffee.
Today will be okay.

I feel like I'm fraying at the edges

Where are you? I need you so much right now

Tonight I feel like all the things I used to think that would pull me down are coming back to me. I really want to cut, to bleed, see the stark white inside of my flesh in the moments before the blood spews forth, I want to feel that warm blood rush, I want every muscle in my body to contract in pain as the knife grates across my bone, I want to pull out all the hair on my head and smash my fists against the wall. Im so lost.
Everything is getting to be too much, and Im scared. I don't want to go back to where I was.
I really need you right now, but I can't...
I just cant.

I feel so shaky and sick, I get headspins all the time when I stand up.
Don't eat. Have another smoke, more coffee, black, no sugar, don't eat. Read a chapter of this book. Like 10 people's status'. You're not really hungry, it will go away. Make tea. Drink tea. Have a glass of water. Hungry? Eat some icecubes. Do 20 sit-ups. You're not hungry. Busy, busy, busy. Have to keep doing or I'll start eating. Sew another patch on your jeans. Paint your nails. Weigh yourself. Drink more tea. Smoke again. Busy, busy, busy.

dont really know what im doing, im really bad at all the cute stuff
and whatnot
but
this is nice
i cant write it
but you know what I mean
i think
i need to say something, cause right now im filling up with all this happiness and i dont quite know what to do with myself
i never thought i would ever feel this way
but im actually

happy
i feel

like

idn

something nice is happening in my life right now, and im so glad that im alive :)

She draws the circles and the boxes and lives in them spinning out of control, her fingertips brush needles and blades and she could stretch and reach them if she really wanted to;...
she really wants to.
but she really wants someone, everyday, every minute, someone who makes her feel like everything is okay, and she actually feels happy with him
but right now she's spinning and wishing of closing her eyes and feeling the warmth and the rush and the blood and the burning and the smoke and the glass pipe and needle and she thinks that he makes her happier than all of these things
but right now she's alone

I feel like everyone is working towards 'it', and I don't even know what 'it' is yet. Like there is some huge giant plan and I thought everyone was just following the crowd but I think maybe they've worked it out while Im sitting here smoking and wasting my life away. I feel like I am running out of time to discover and accomplish all the things I have to do. Like I am wasted in words and paragraphs and I am literally drowning under all of the things I said for myself and all of the letters and numbers that make up my life are consuming me, I get so focused on writing, deciding, planning, that I never actually DO. Disconnect.
It is stuck on the back of my tongue, hanging in the back of my mind
...hanging in the back of a closet
...with a rope around their neck...
...hanging around....
I just... I always thought we would have more time.

tonight is a night of missing things. 

i miss traveling so much.

it’s so hard to explain..

this is how i explained it to a friend.

“theirs nothing like it. i’m not even sure how to explain it.

hitch hiking, train hopping, whatever you’re doing. 

broke, hungry, tired, nothing but whatevers in your pack.

it’s freeing, humbling, incredible, awful..

every emotion mixed up and unrecognizable.

it’s the hardest thing in the world to do,

but once you learn how it’s the easiest thing you’ll ever do.

you just…. go. and once you start you take a big breath

and everything goes away. it’s amazing.”

i miss it so much.

i miss not knowing were i’m headed.

i miss not caring.

i miss sleeping on the side of the road and under over passes.

i miss busking on the side of a street corner.

i miss meeting people and exchanging stories.

i miss trading cigarettes for food and floss.

i miss sitting in another state in a city i don’t know the name of and watching the sunrise waiting for my next ride.

i miss setting camp up and being warm in a sleeping bag patching a hole or sewing a tear in my jeans.

i miss taking my boots off before falling asleep and stuffing all my important things inside of them.

i miss digging through dumpsters and getting stoked about a pizza that’s still warm or a box of chips or a crate of fruit that’s still good.

i miss sitting with the homeless and rolling cigarettes in a park in the morning at a breakfast line and talking about were we came from and were we’re headed.

i miss it all.

the really good runs where you get hours from where you started  

and the endless tiring sleepless nights with no food and getting run out of truck stops.

I wish I knew how to say all of these things inside of me
all of these feelings,
but I never get the timing right.
I want to tell you everything
and at the same time say nothing at all, just lie there
I feel so safe with you
and I feel so empty when I am alone

I physically am in too much pain to sleep tonight, I am disgusted with myself, my flesh is a mess and with every movement I make tears in my skin.
I don't want to be alone tonight, but I don't want anyone to see me.
I am so fat, I am so sick of my fat fucking self, I loathe myself so much I can't even describe it. I cry when I see myself in a mirror unless I've hidden all the fat with layers of clothes.
I am so disgusted with myself for eating, I am so sick of myself, I am disgusting.
Help, please. I am so upset, I feel like crying until my lungs burst.
Everything about me is awful,  I look like I should weigh 200kgs, I am a fucking whale, everyone is lying to me to make sure that they stay thinner than me. I am so SAD AND FAT AND AWFUL
Why would someone as good as you ever want someone like me

See I've got all these words and feelings and things to say but I can't phrase them so they spill out in giggles and smiles and little things and I'm really happy

You make me want to live again.
Which I didn't think I'd ever say about anyone or anything ever.
And even though I just lost someone very close to me, whenever I'm with you I'm happy.
I've stopped hurting myself for now. I ate dinner the other night and I had lunch today.
I'm really happy with you
really really  happy.

A close friend of mine killed himself early this morning. It hurts so much.
Everyone keeps saying they wish they'd seen the signs and they wish he had said something but I KNEW, and I thought everyone else did too. I should have done more, I could have done more and I miss you already. You were such a great guy.
I should have stayed up later each night to talk to him, and last night, or ALL the nights I choose to go to bed before 5am, he sends me his suicide note when I am asleep. If I replied earlier, if I had called, or something, anything...

Let things happen. Let events blossom and unfold and wash over you; do not let them drown you and do not let them pull you under. You are solid, resilient. And this, too, shall pass.

I ate dinner again and it was thick, poisonous hatred and disgust that filled me; crushing my head and throwing me into a wall again and again. I had to get it out, and the feeling as if I had just injected hopelessness into my veins. I'm fucking falling apart, cowering on the floor of the bathroom next to the toilet; and it's not glamorous. It's not 'cool'. It's not fucking fun or pretty and everyday is so hard, every tiny fucking piece of food is an enemy. Every fucking glass of juice makes me sick. Even if I can emotionally manage to eat then my body is like, "fuck no what is this we have to make her sick cramps cramps cramps nausea vomit." This is what I mean when I say I cant eat. I physically cannot. I can have grapes, apples, lettuce and tea. Everything else just makes me sick... I am sick.
I am so scared that this will never get better. And I'm scared that I will always live like this; hunched over toilets or drains or bins or bushes; and I am terrified that I will never have anything to show for it. That I will always be this fat. That I will never be pretty, never be in control, never be happy.

Im cold, Im lonely and I'm a bit scared of all the noises and stuff I keep hearing in the dark.
But I've got happiness running through my head since last night, and it's been the first time in a long while that I feel like things are okay. I miss you, and I want to be with you, and right now you make me happier than I've been in a long time.

I HATE YOU
I FUCKING LOATHE YOU
You don't KNOW what it's like
You dont KNOW how it feels
How it hurts
and burns
and eats away at you constantly every fucking day
YOU ARE SO FULL OF SHIT
EVERYTHING IS NOT ABOUT YOU
You fucking liar; you dirty fucking liar
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU
Im sorry
You have to stop
Stop the fucking lies
You're lying to everyone and youre lying to YOURSELF.
do you even know the truth anymore???