every person is a new door to a different world

tonight my heart feels encased, but not like it used to. not like it's snuggling in a warm cosy little box, where the walls are lined with pink fluff and happiness, but rather like it's trapped in a old, stuffy, vintage trunk. or a cold metal tin, where the freezing temperature of it's solid ground chills me to the bone.

"let's pretend, for a while, that the rain is the only thing falling fast."

my heart feels a lot. i've painted this large image of it in my mind and everytime i analyze it, the image doubles in size and quadruples it's impact on me. can you image repeatedly running into a brick wall at an enormous velocity? it's a pretty shitty feeling, i'm not going to lie; that's what it feels like everytime i delve deep into my soul and really think about how i'm feeling.

this is what i see:

i see a heart in a box, and i see the box having some fault lines, places where - if it really wanted to - the heart would be able to get out of the box. places where measly amounts of light filter through, tauntingly akin to hope. i also see the heart's feelings rising and falling, sometimes rising to such an extent that they begin to spill over the edges, flooding the box. the heart begins to swim in it's own doing, and soon swimming turns to drowning, because for some strange reason, in my mind, i can never get the heart to float.

i want to know how to forget
i want to know how to end this
i want to be able to forget
i want to be able to end this

you make my dopamine levels go all silly.
this is the one time i advise you to cross the line, and not just stand there and stare at it, you really should fucking cross it

i desire the things which will destroy me in the end.

found that on tumblr - it's shockingly accurate :)
it cheered me up; my deep, darkly brooding mood has vanished and i feel light and feathery, and the song sly - the cat empire helped :)

you were so fine.

you know those days when nothing really goes your way?

when the weather is cuddle weather, and all the people it reminds you of are busy. they're not interested. you don't text them, because you know you won't get a reply.

when you think about her and how she could make it better. she could make it okay that nobody cares enough.

when you miss how close you used to be with someone, and you cry because the immensity of it only hits you then. somebody who used to be a big part of you is lost to you, slipped right through your fingers.

when you get lame and soppy and emo and start laughing at the strangeness of it all.

life's good.

elevator straight into my skull.

you beat me to it, he beat me to it, she beat me to it.

it was considerably shit of her to leave like that, we're kids, and now she's crying, she's grovelling. she says she's scared it's going to leave a 'scar' on our relationship. well, wake the fuck up, honey. i think i've learnt that mixing alcohol results in ugly things, things like slaps and screams.

she said things she shouldn't have, and my sister just told me she wishes i had a car, so that we could run away and never come back. she said it sincerely, i'm scared she hates it here. and i get to leave for week after week, and she's stuck. although, it's not like the place i go is paradise personified. it's kinda a stuffy shithole.

as soon as i can drive, i'm going to kidnap her, and were going to go be cool somewhere else. smoke lots of cigarettes, drink lots of good coffee. we're going to go watch gigs, and we're going to play guitar, and use the inside of the guitar as an ashtray, because ash won't change the sound. we'll just have to throw the butts away somewhere else.

anyway, maybe i should just pull myself out of that daydream before it gets way too good.

this is shit!
fuck, what would i do without the kills? what did i do before them?

alchemy.

today was the laziest day ever. i'm still in my pyjamas. all i did was stay in bed all day long, thinking up all kinds of crazy shit. i haven't even eaten yet.

i must be ill.

so, here's the crazy shit:

i dreamt i had sex with cameron diaz, but a much prettier version. she didn't have all the wrong things that the real one does. and then she told her whole crew that we did it, and anja, bliss and i had to leave the island in a boat that looks a chair. those chairs that have rolly-wheels. i'm actually only finding it odd right now that we could all fit on that little chair. then we stayed on the island for another night because it was raining too hard, but becci went to go stand outside in the storm because she said she liked the salt. for some reason, i can't remember when she joined us, she was just there. so anyway, the next night, we all got on a ship that resembled an airplane on the inside, and played with baby rats the whole way back. they were small and cute and black with green eyes, they actually looked more like extra-miniature kittens than baby rats, come to think of it.

it was also a little strange that we had to leave the island to go home, but the incident occurred in my own bedroom at home. my home isn't on an island. so, ??

it's weird how it all makes sense in the dream. i think i'm still a little delirious from all the medication. my english is horrid.

anyway, when i was awake, all i kept thinking of was how i want to be to you what she is to you. i can be that for you, and i don't think you get that. i don't think you realise that it's not all about that to me. it's about you.

i also kept thinking about how everybody was electric and perfect, until you. and how now, i can hardly distinguish between them. they just melt together, and i'm left in perfect clarity.

i also dreamt that you broke down and started telling me things like you owe me everything. and you started sending me lyrics and pictures and things, and i kept doubting you. you told me that i was everything you want, and i didn't believe you.

you told me you knew i'd give you a chance, and i didn't.

i'm not.

these people are writing these songs, and they're just making too much sense.

my legs are going to fall off. and my elbows. and i can't sleep.

this is pointless.

"after all the time
after you

had you seen me with someone new

hanging so high for your return

but the stillness is a burn

had I seen it in your eyes

there'd have been no try after try

your leaving had no goodbye

had I just seen one in your eyes

I can't give it up

to someone elses touch

because I care too much

could you tell

I was left lost and lonely

could you tell

things ain't worked out my way

wish the best for you

wish the best for me

wished for infinity

if that ain't me

give it up

I can't give it up

I can't give it up

to someone elses touch

because I care too much

give it up

I can't give it up"

and

"please don't say we're done

when I'm not finished

I could give so much more

make you feel, like never before

welcome, they said welcome to the floor

it's been a while

and you've found someone better

but I've been waiting too long to give this up

the more I see, I understand

but sometimes, I still need you

sometimes, I still need you

and I was struggling to get in

left waiting outside your door

I was sure

you'd give me more

no need to come to me

when I can make it all the way to you

you made it clear

you weren't near

near enough for me

heart skipped a beat

and when I caught it you were out of reach

but I'm sure, I'm sure

you've heard it before"

it's scarily accurate.

my head feels thick, and a little dizzy. i think i've got a cold.

or something.

i'm glad it's weekend, i have a 21st tonight, i have to dress up as marilyn monroe. dress, wig, mole and all.

i also have to sing happy birthday like she did for jf kennedy.

i don't know how to be sultry and sexy, i'm awkward. it's going to be a mess.

hopefully i'll be drunk by then, because then it'll be a ridiculously hilarious mess.

on saturday it's steph's thing for her birthday.

slumber party, whoo :)

i'm hoping things will work out like i want them to, because then i'll have no problem.

i'll be good.

i don't want to take a chance anyway.

se sentir.

today is average. i skipped hospitality practical.
the teacher didn't even notice, which is cool.

it's cold today. it's steph's birthday, she's seventeen. i think i'm the only one left that's sixteen, which is lame.
i got around twenty slaps on the hand today for saying 'like'. they didn't hurt though, bliss slaps like a girl :)

we have a biology outing tomorrow, to a heart museum. how they're put together, how they're taken apart. how they're removed, eviscerated. and how they replace the dysfunctionals.

they say that when you have a heart transplant, you take on traits and characteristics from the first carrier of the heart. if you've always hated chicken nuggets, and the person who the heart belonged to originally loved them, you'll start to think 'dude, those chicken nuggets look really good.' and want to eat them.

if you've always been good at keeping your feelings in check, thinking with your head and not your heart, but the original 'owner' was terribly, insufferably sentimental, you'll start to find it hard to keep your heart from clouding your rationality.

i don't know whether i believe that or not, though.
it's a little odd.

it was never worth it, was it?