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Sunday, October 03, 2004

Mood: angry/sad/lonely/desperate/tired/moody/confused/hopeful
Music: badly drawn boy - the shining and Mr. Brightside - the killers
Color: gray

Faith pours from your walls, drowning your calls
I've tried to hear you're not near
Remembering when I saw your face
Shining my way, pure timing
Now I've fallen in deep, slow silent sleep
It's killing me, I'm dying

to put a little bit of sunshine in your life

Soleil all over you
Warm sun pours over me
Soleil all over you
Warm sun

Now this slick fallen rift came like a gift
Your body moves ever nearer
and you will dry this tear now that we're here
And grieve for me not history
But now I'm dry of thoughts wait for the rain
Then it's replaced, sun's setting

and suddenly you're in love with everything

Soleil all over you
Warm sun pours over me
Soleil all over you
Warm sun

This weekend blew pretty hard to the point where i just want to call the people that i know care about me and cry. I can't stop complaining about how much my life sucks at this point, and people are getting sick of it. I feel incomplete. I feel like im not living up to my potential.

I promised myself i wasnt going to be one of those people that goes after things that are long gone, or have no chance of surviving.
I guess i know how it feels to be them then.

There are a few things to look forward to, but at this point, they seem so far away, and at times, sureal.

Mackenzie and i went out for a little while last week and discussed what was going on. She really understood what this "surreal" situation is. She too had one, and i suppose thats why she's always wearing "warriors" sweatshirts. har har har. love you macky.

Too bad i cant run around in my tshirt, ill either get shot, or someone will know. oy.
let the countown begin...

the homecoming plans keep getting more complicated/squirrely. I have a poor feeling this will fall through, i will end up going alone, my friend will have a cute, bear-like date, and things will be quazi date. I need to find someone fabulous/fix my fucking problems.

prozac cruel cruel world?

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