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Decay

[ website | .:. Liberate your soul .:. ]
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Futile Babble [02 Apr 2006|12:08pm]
[ mood | crappy ]

[Sorry I haven't written in a long time. Been busy with things - Such as saving my own skin, running away, living/being thrown in a basement for many days... Lets just say I haven't really had the time to be on the computer. But I'm as alive and alright as I've ever been - which isn't 100%. But hey who is? So if I even have people reading this I apologize to you. And if no one reads this, it's not like things have changed... Now with the writting.]

A dark horse. A rip in time. The door is closing. And the corridor is dark. Dank. Musty. Moldy. Stale. Trite. Grime and filth cling to the wall. Odd fellows rest. Repose. Perched. In the broken-down. Worn-out chairs.

Nevermore. Shall I voyage. Am I an enemy to reality. Or are we all. Enemies of reality. In our own way.

Who say ye. That I am. But a soul. Whose been driven. Off. The path of righteousness. Fuck that. We have just stumbled. Subsided. Gone astray. Fallen. To pieces. And whichever path. We have picked. Doesn't seem. Good enough. No. Nothings good enough. Fuck it. Screw it. Who cares. Do you. Do I. Who knows.

Perhaps we. Shall all care. Once it’s too late. For that how. It seems. To have gone. Already. What is this. Where am I going. Is this. The fake. Sound of progress. Maybe. Perhaps.

I am. Immune. My soul. Spirit. Inner self is. Embraced. By the very essence of extinction. Embedded. And covered. Enveloped. Concealed by darkness. No light shines. Through here. Has it ever. Will it ever. Again. Maybe. The light has been. Diminished. Snuffed. Doused. Lost. Gone.

This is the. Jagged edge. This is. Me. Do I even. Possess. A soul. Spirit. Inner self. Anymore. Did I ever. Own one. Who knows. Perhaps not. Wouldn’t surprise me.

The thin rope. In which I walk. Has thinned. To nothingness. I am now. Falling. Have been. For quite some time. I need help. Need to be saved. Will I know. What it looks like. If it ever surfaced. Would I accept it. Would it help. Im falling. Down. Drifting.

[2 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

Daddy dearest [27 Feb 2006|07:14pm]
[ mood | sore ]

Just gotta love that man..

Body simply black and blue... Most likely a few broken bones. But who can really tell? Heh.

And it doesn't really matter who sees me. For no one ever sees me. No one.

Especially over vacation. An entire week off. An entire week full of Hell. Oh joy. Oh joy.

I can't wait till Winter is over. So that it's no longer cold outside...

I'm fucking tired of sleeping outside in the snow. Being tossed out. With nothing but whatever I luckily managed to grab. If that.

So fucking cold. Or so that the evil dreaded basement warms up. That place scares me to no end... But it's still better less cold.

Body simply black and blue. Stiff and sore as all fucking hell.

God I need a break... Sorry for the lack of me. But that's pretty much why I haven't been on.

Kinda suprised I haven't ended up back in the Hospital, to tell you the truth. Oh well.

Hope everyone else is doing better then me.

[2 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

/// [10 Feb 2006|07:30pm]
[ mood | cranky ]

So I'm alive.

Although not in the best state of mind - still.

Being stuck at the hospital for a few days does that to one I guess...

[3 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

... [31 Jan 2006|02:16pm]
[ mood | depressed ]

I just want all this pain to end.

... I'm so close to the edge. I can see the waves below crashing upon the rocks.

It looks so nice there.

Ah, but do I dare jump?

Fate will decide...

[2 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

Fill out. If you want. [13 Jan 2006|06:41pm]
[ mood | confused ]

BASICS
1. Name:
2. Date of birth:
3. Where you live:
4. What makes you happy:
5. Currently listening/the last thing you listened to:
6. Do you read my journal?:
7. If yes, what makes it especially good or bad?:
8. An interesting fact about you:
9. Are you in love/do you have a crush at the moment?:
10. Favourite place to spend time:
11. Favourite lyric:
12. The best time of the year:

RECOMMEND
1. A film:
2. A book:
3. A band, a song, or album:

PLUS
1. One thing you like about me:
2. Two things you like about yourself:
3. Look at my friends-list and tell what you like about one of our mutual friends:
4. Put this in your journal so that I can tell you what I like about you.

[Leave me scars]

// [11 Jan 2006|01:59pm]
[ mood | crappy ]

Thus far... I hate. I hate 2006.

And it would seem to hate me aswell.

[6 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

God I hate the Holidays. [26 Dec 2005|03:47pm]
[ mood | depressed ]

Hope everyones Christmas, or whatever they celebrate, was good.

Can't say that mine was great, let alone good.

It sucked as usual.

All I got was lots of; fists, kicks, and putdowns.

Ah, the joy of Christmas...

[4 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

g.l.a.s.s. [19 Dec 2005|06:16pm]
[ mood | down ]

Sometimes I feel like I'm a piece of broken glass.

Practically transparent. And for the most part. Unnoticed.

Unnoticed to the entire world. A bit that's all but fallen to the ground. Lost. Forgotten.

Uncared for...

[1 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

Kill me already, I'm tired of waiting... [25 Nov 2005|07:21pm]
[ mood | depressed as all fuck ]

Just toss me away. Under the departing sun. For I'm nothing to no one. And no one to nothing.

I'm a pile of filth. Decaying rot. Tied and wrapped up in a plastic bag. Chuck me into the darkness of raging fire. Once more. As it is always done.

Watch. Slowly. As my skin peels off my bones. As I've helped you with that before. When I was once alive. Cutting. Hacking. Slicing away. Away at my skin.

These imperfect scars... Oh how they hate you. Hate me. Hurt me again, please? Fill me with hurt. With rage. Riddle me with problems. More. It's what I desire?

Go and buy that fucking gun. Ample it with bullets. Then simple cock it. And pull it. Just to riddle me full of holes.

Place my listless body. In a twelve-foot deep ditch. Tied and wrapped up in a plastic bag. Pile me deep with dirt and mud. Sharing a permanent rent space with maggots and worms.

I'm falling. Again. Save me. Please! Anybody. It's all I ask of. I'm slipping farther away. Sinking. Struggling against the tide. I'm weighed down. With rock and string.

Throw me back down. Into that basement. And beat the crap out of me. Beat me so hard that no fleshy pigment shows through. Choke. Stab. Kick. Hit... Whatever makes me black and blue...

Then leave. Leave me down their. To die. Alone in silence. Alone with your hurt. Your pain. To die alone with my tears. My fears.

I can tell you want me to die. So why can't it just be done already? Just pick up that bat again. Once more. And continue to play; bludgen to death with me. It was quite fun before. So why stop now. I'm ready for you. I'm ready. I just want this over and done with...

Murder me already, I'm tired of waiting! Tired of being scared. Tired of living. Tired of hurting. Just tired... Of being...

[3 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

No Comment. [16 Nov 2005|05:39pm]
[ mood | thirsty ]

Not much to talk about today. As usual. Oh well. Not like the things I say. Are actually taken seriously. Fuck it's not like people are really reading this to! Then again. It's not like I really want people to read my god awful shit. Boring as hell. Me. I just need to vent out my anger. And frustration and what not. So I turn to this. Pretty pathetic I know. But I can't write in a bound book or anything. Because it might be seen. By the un-seen eyes. That could lead me too. Certain places of hate.

Fuck. I don't even know where the hell I'm going with any of this. Just venting... Again. Hmm lets see. My whole body still hurts like a mother fucker. But that's what happens when you have the man whom I have to call dad; step dad. This morning my ankle was so swollen. That I fell onto the floor and my ankle kinda did this spazing type thing. Don't really know how to explain it. But it was really weird. And painful. There's a big suprise. As well as I can only move my neck to one side, so that it wont errupt in a sheet of white behind my eyes. Hm, that can't be too good. Hope that stops soon. But mostly my ankle. I hate limping.

For limping leeds to people asking questions. And being nosey. And that's never good... For I am a horrid liar. Blech.

My step dad wasn't home all day today. Yay. He was away at Coast Guard. Woo. I mean the folks there are nice and all. Just that... Fuck I don't know. I'm dumb.

Mom. What a weird bitch. My step sister was over. So my mom and her went out for some beers and pool today. Well wouldn't you know. She came home around 12-ish. But I go out to tell her that I was heading off to bed. But there's a man there. Turns out his named was Todd. My mom found him at one of the bars they went to. And decided to bring him home with her and my step sis. Considering that. "They were having a nice chat" and all. Must be the 10+ time that she's done that.

Yes, my mum brings home random fellows home, to spend the night. And yes, she's still married and living with my dad. Hm, odd you might say? Yeppers.

Well this Todd fellow turns out to be alright. Me and him were talking about some movie for a little bit. Before my step sis took him away to talk to him. Or what not. Pifft, like I'm compitition... I've got a boyfriend and am happy with him. What does she have? She's got two kids from a bad marrige and still lovely looking. She just shouldn't tangle with guys she meets at bars. Then again, nor should they bring them home. But whatever.

Welp. That's the end. Of this entry type thing. Kinda fucked up. But aint they all? Heh, screw this. Im done.

[Leave me scars]

Nothing Sacred [06 Nov 2005|12:46pm]
[ mood | distressed ]

This could have been about a ton of things. But it's not. So don't stop. And try to look. For some lost message. And don't waste time to look for a meaning. It's utterly hopeless.

Another day. Another problem. Another way. To try and solve them. Another day. Another battle. Another cage. To be horrendously rattled.

'We' are the kings. And queens. Of deep sedated misery. Born and raised. Without any ability. Far in this rabid underworld. So, what's on top of the world. When you get there?

Trapped in a world. Of ordinary madness... Where I'm at. It looks like cages. Covered in blood and wrapped in flesh. I'm living. In the new age of frustration. Yes I'm living. But we can't even tell. When it's cold. Is when you burn. So walk. That line. And act. Exactly as you're expected. We don't rest in peace. We just disappear. We fade away completely. So who the fuck protects you? Who the fucks going to resurrect you?

If a prison is a cell. Then it's raging through my blood. I am my enemy in every way. This enemy is within myself. I have stared death down in it's own charred black chambers. I feel the anger changing me. Contorting my body, making it revolt. It clamps down onto my neck. Making me give up. With no respect left. There is a trap door on every step. Run. Into the night. And reclaim your stolen breath.

Take your life. And ends its struggle... So let your mind. Explode in two. No one rests in peace. You just disappear... Your evil. Rebel. Tortured soul has been. Rejected. So sign up and sell your soul. For redemption.

Never a minute. Has passed me by. When they haven't invaded my soul. My head spins. It turns around. A look of confusion. Everybody's here. But nobody's showed up. The truth is. There is no truth. Mystified? One can't compute.

Don't turn your back and walk away. It will just lead you. Straight back to your yesterday...

Heh. Yeah. Just goes to show you. Of all the things. Shoved. Placed. Tossed. Chucked. Inside my head. So if you don't make any sense. Of it. It's alright. Damn. So many problems right now...

[2 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

One stroke away till death [29 Oct 2005|08:24pm]
[ mood | gloomy ]

A cooling pleasure that lifts the stress. Making it go. Running a knife against the skin. Deeper and deeper. With each stroke. Each move. Against the arm. Causing blood to flow. And pool into small puddles. Droplets of crimson red. Each holding a story. A pain. A trouble. And one by one. They slowly trickle to the floor. The sensation of letting it all go. To take a breath.

All the worlds' light. Wont ease my pain. It wont cease. I'm diseased. Will you hang my please. All my life ive lived in silence. I'm gonna snap. I'll get you back! I'm a mirror fucking image of no control. Emotion overflowing.

What else is better. In life. Then to purge my pain. if i cut. When i cut. I wont feel like this. I lick the salt over my wounds and run into the night. Blindly. Searching. For a way out. Grouping. Into the vast darkness. Looking for the way. Out.

Who and where i am. Has become an empty hole. My very image. And essence. Has been stolen. I am no longer. Me. Just a drifter. Trying to escape. It all. Only way to truly escape. Is the knife.

So sleek and slender. Smooth and sharp. Tapered at the end. With a sharp and deadly point. Racking it across the arm. Blood flowing. To my feet. Feeling safe. Pressure leaving. Slowly. Don't want to feel. The pain. Slice. Again. And again. Cutting. Deeper and deeper. Let the blood seep. Drip. Drain. Away. Washing away. Everything. Thoughts. Emotions. Washing it all. Away. No more pain.

Till it stops. And everything is. Back to normal. Pain. Suffering. Run. Dash. Take the knife in hand. Slice. Cut. Watch. Watch the blood. Turn into a small river. Causing it to drip. To the ground. Around my feet. I know nothing. Besides fear. Pain. And suffering. Till the relief. Of it all. Ends. With the stroke. A stroke.

[1 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

Grave stone. [15 Oct 2005|11:42am]
[ mood | sick ]

<td align="center">

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com</td>


Amusing, yet somehow... It doesn't suprise me.

I need to update with a REAL post. And again, I'm so sorry to all those whom said I should, Yet haven't. And with the lack there of on peoples LJs. I've read them, for the most part. I just... Don't have time, ya know?

Still battling with parentals and all that lovely shit. If you can use your imagination. It's most likely all happened.

Have a great weekend all, see you soon. Perhaps.
[3 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

Malice Whispers [09 Oct 2005|03:20pm]
[ mood | sad ]

I'm failing again... I can feel it.

I just want to take the knife. And put it to good use.

Why must I always fail?

[Leave me scars]

Stolen, Found it funny. [26 Sep 2005|06:53pm]
[ mood | lazy ]

Sign away!

You know you wanna.






Click here to sign my Graffiti Wall! (Powered
by
PicLibs.com)


[Leave me scars]

Die in a Fire [15 Sep 2005|02:17pm]
[ mood | upset ]

... Sometimes I really wish I could just kill someone in cold blood.

What a rush that would be.

[Leave me scars]

Another Shit-e Poem [11 Sep 2005|02:43pm]
[ mood | blah ]

Death Benefit
Broken and disheveled
Beaten and bruised
My body is still healthy
My mind's been abused.
No one can really tell
Nobody really cares
I'm alone in my prison
Sanity slips through the tears.
Contusions and deep cuts
Not one and be seen
Each one of them hurt
How could 'he' be so mean?
No one can help me
In this state I am in.
There's nothing left to do
I am forced to give in.

--------------------


Heh fuck. Don't ask. I don't know where. Or why this became something. Just another. One of those things that just. Comes out as you start to type... It's so screwed and pointless... Fuck it.
[2 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

[28 Aug 2005|01:38pm]
[ mood | drained ]

Just wanted to apologize to everyone on my friends list. I just haven't been up to doing much. Posting and commenting. I do read what everyone writes. Just when it comes down to commenting on it. I always draw blanks. And I don't want it to read; "Yeah wow thats great!". Or something stupid like that. I want it to mean something or ever.

So. If you think that I'm ignoring you. Or whatever... Heh if any of you think that. It's just that oh I dunno... Guess there is no excuse. Alright then I'll apologize for being me. There

[2 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

I'm back. [14 Aug 2005|01:27pm]
What was I thinking that I could just 'run away' again. Even if I am legal in doing so.

What was I thinking?

Why do I always end up coming back home... Why?

I fucking hate it so. Makes me want to fucking kill myself! Why can't I just shake them loose. Why can't I just leave and be let leaved.

Ugh, having issues with talking about my emtotions again. Can't even get what I want to say out of this. Makes me so fucking frustrated with myself. Why am I so stupid in not even being able to tell myself these things. Not like people really read this...

Well... I'm back.

After so many days of whatever. Sorry I'm late.
[2 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

Call the morgue; ring ring. [27 Jul 2005|07:59pm]
[ mood | pain ]

I just... Don't know what to do anymore.

I know I'm slipping farther away...

I just don't know if I really want swim and keep myself afloat.

I'm really losing it.

Won't someone just bury me already?

I've been dead for awhile you see.

Oh how I loathe my parents... Why can't I have to strength to leave?

Sorry again for never updating, in anything... I really mean to, really I do. It's just... My ambition has slackened to nothing...

I'm sorry... I'm just a failure.

[6 Sliced me| Leave me scars]

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