I think I'm dying here, waiting for something to change. The plans that I made weeks ago just fell through--now I have nothing to do tomorrow. I don't get to see my best friend. I don't get to sleep between Mitch and Cassi. And it feels like everything just kind of fell in. I don't feel motivated enough to feed myself.

Oh, and Mitch isn't talking to me right now. No reason for that though... Of course not.

We never talk. Why don't we ever talk?

STIX
.mate.feed.kill.repeat.
18 December 1992.
i do not capitalize when i write poetry.


Family.
Friends.
Mitch.
Boys.
Pretty girls.
A drug-free world.
Kisses on the forehead.
Slipknot, Metallica, & Mozart.
Hugs.
Touch&beTouched.
Love&beLoved.

shh, i'm always here for you.


February 2009
March 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
February 2010
March 2010
April 2010
July 2010
November 2010



layout: +
fonts: +
brushes: + +
image: +