to say this whole thing had taken over my life would be a colossal understatement.
jesus, who am i kidding? of course i'm not what i say i am. why do these lies fall so easily from my lips? who am i underneath all these layers and layers of thickened skin? when am i even telling the truth anymore?
i think it's time for an intervention. will somebody please take out that banner of substantial size and write some heartfelt letters as to why i should give up this habit? this addiction?
oh well, i guess i'll just carry on as per usual. lies on top of lies on top of lies on top of more lies.
i don't think i even know what solid ground is anymore. i don't know what it feels like to be level-headed and sincere. honesty is like a foreign language to my lips.
not even really when it comes to you. maybe if i peer into the depths of my soul, the core of my very being, i can still tell how i really feel about you. but then, on the surface, i lie and i cover it up and i play it cool. oh, please, for god's sake, please just don't think i'm in love with you. that would be the end of the fucking world, wouldn't it? if, for once in my life, somebody knew the truth about me.
i think i'm a little fragile and broken lately, probably because a little bit of the truth slipped out and it was rejected like a piece of repugnant filth. thanks, for that. really.
i guess it's not your fault, is it? you're just telling the truth too, because that's what normal people do, without having a whole complex about it. i wish i could write you some lyrics, compose you a song, draw you a picture, fucking write you some book or something. no, i don't, actually. do i? i can't even tell anymore.
yet again, sometimes i think i live life too intensely to bear living it.