inexplicably drawn to this web of deceit hedonism obsession. sometimes i can’t tell the difference because the line begins to blur and everything just descends into fucking red red red red black black black black black and i can’t fucking see shit but i just keep walking into the fucking heat and i feel all the despondence oozing out of my every pore and then sadism washes into every fucking pore and i can’t stop no i can’t fucking stop because every fly’s eye has you on their mind, him on her mind, me on his mind, you on my mind, do you get me. i would lie to have you, but really, what the fuck do i mean by lie. lie lie lie i would lie for this i would lie for that. when you think about what the word lie really means, maybe i’m not such a nice person after all. every conscience is like a white cloth. over all the fucking untruths and unsavory sublime things we do, at the end of our fucking insignificant lives, we all die with a black cloth. so really, what IS the point of it all. don’t you feel like takahashi in a murakami book. with tentacles dragging us down deeper and deeper into the sea of black ink.
i think i’m okay now.
because i know you will read this.
i haven’t replied to a single message for the past two weeks for the obvious reasons.
i think what is most important in a relationship is that both parties are happy. and for obvious selfish reasons, everybody wants to be happy in a relationship, or else it is void.
for the past sex months, we’ve tried multiple ways for both of us to be happy, but to no avail. any rational person would get out of this cycle of abuse and unhappiness. it does not matter who loves who, because love can only get us so far. you say you love me. but so what? do you give in to me? do you stop verbally abusing me? do you make me happy?
let me answer that for you. NO YOU DON’T.
i don’t care if you label me another lisa. i don’t care if you whine and say i’m cruel for moving on. i don’t give a flying fuck when you bring up love, because a relationship isn’t about LOVE. it’s about effort, and trust, GODDAMNIT.
DO YOU PUT IN EFFORT?
DO YOU TRUST ME?
NO, YOU ASSHOLE.
ALL YOU DO EVERYDAY IS COMPLAIN ABOUT HOW LOUSY OF A GIRLFRIEND I AM, WHEN YOU DON’T SEE YOUR FLAWS.
let me tell you this, go read your sister’s wedding pictorial book, and look at all the quotes inside on how to make a relationship work. you go on and on about how you want to be like your sister, who had a magical eleven-year relationship with her first boyfriend and how she’s happily married with a son now. well guess what, adisuwiryo? relationships don’t just drop out of heaven like that. they need work, effort, and trust.
i think i’d rather have a relationship with a plant than continue with you. you know why?
because you whine like a woman, and you think you’re God’s gift to me, which negates all your flaws, and exacerbates mine. i’m tired of reading your abusive texts to me, so please stop. i delete them anyway, so stop wasting your father’s money, rich as you/he may be.
please. leave me alone. i’m done with you threatening to be with someone else. because honestly, just go. you wanna know what my ideal boyfriend is like?
clearly you didn’t know me at all.
because you have no idea. i can’t stand everything about you. i can’t stand how you distrust me, i can’t stand how you check my phone, i can’t stand how you keep making sounds with your tongue, i can’t stand how you get angry over the tiniest things, i can’t stand how you can say the shittiest things to me, i can’t stand how you won’t even take a plane ride here.
FOR MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY. i have to fly to singapore, but you don’t have to fly to australia? well, all i can say is that again, you think you’re God’s gift to me, which you are NOT. you think you’re so wonderful, then spread yourself around, and spare me the trouble. i’d rather spend the money on more clothes for myself than fly back to singapore for you.
go fuck yourself.
goodnight. i feel so much better already.
you want nasty, i’ll give you nasty.
beating lights beating my eyes my skin my body pumping loud music into every pore pumping my blood pumping me into oblivion i’m in a box i can’t get out i want to be miss sunshine i want to screech in joy i want wear yellow and orange and dance but this is winter and every dark inside of every bloody person surfaces.
wait.
stop.
listen.
can you hear me. you read this bloody entry on your computer screen from miles away can you feel my eyes droning into this text you’re reading right now. can you feel the trance beating through my fingers as i type to the rhythm of the beat.
no, you bastards. can you smell the smoke in my mouth. can you smell my peach body butter. can you can you can you. bitch.
ok. time out from my psycho-moment.
have a good day, fuckshit!
Filed under: disgust
these words keep ringing…
“i keep trying to run away from this relationship, and you keep pulling me back.”
Have you ever thought about all the metals in your ipods, laptops, whatever parts in your whitegoods? Where they come from, where they’re mined, how much they cost….
How about Congo? It’s some African country smack in the middle of nowhere and you’ll never think about it or ever go there for a holiday, neither do you give a shit about the kids and women being (gang)raped by crazy brainwashed child soldiers and forced to contribute slave labor to mine(rob) the country of its precious minerals that ginormous corporations buy because of the low cost and ignore the “conflict mineral” tracing bullshit because they all want to minimize the costs and maximise their profits.
“Battle for Congo’s mineral assets”
“Coltan, the ‘blood mineral’ of Congo”
“Congo Mineral Riches One Step Closer to Being Unlocked”
“Congo Conflict Minerals – Frequently Asked Questions”
So okay kids, I hope you clicked on those links. And even if Congo is facing some serious bs now, I hope you don’t buy gold from South Africa. Don’t buy conflict minerals yo! Stop this capitalism shit!
It annoys me to no end how I am only one person and we can’t do shit unless this issue gains awareness from all of us, so have a heart and stop letting that poor child get raped and forced into slavery. Have a heart, you piece of heartless shit.
i’m so sick of your bullshit, P.
after your break-up, you’re this nonsense moping mess who refuses to go to xxx place just because your stupid, violent, ex-girlfriend is there. i’m not going to be nice like D and say avoidance is best and lying low will not exacerbate things, but you know someday your psycho ex will manipulate simple and nice D and a confrontation will happen.
you won’t like what i’m saying, but being a coward, cowering down to one miserable stick of an ex-girlfriend isn’t YOU.
so what? you’re going to lie low all the thursdays until everything is “fine”? you know it’s never going to be “fine” until you face off with her. even if she raises her hands to slap you, you know your friends will be there for you, you know nothing can happen to you.
so yeah. write all you want on your mummyblog that you wanna go party(when you’re staying home MOPING), and go to straight clubs(which you detest) to avoid that psycho ex.
fucking nonsense lezzie drama. sheesh wake up! you think this is THE L WORD? zomg just go out, have fun, and if she comes to wreck your night, tell her off, and move on, chug on, NEW LIFE BABY! even if she lays her hands on you, don’t be afraid to bring it all the way to the cops; don’t be a pussy anymore.
live your life, you know you deserve it, dammit.
and you know i’m a bitch and i’m being brutally honest because i love you. <333 wake up and smell the roses, friend(she’s just a girl).
love you. always.
Filed under: complaints, confessions, disgust, explanatory, joy!, love, warped
i could run away from knowing everything and something and some things but secretly i think everything i do is a self-destructive attempt not to love and be loved. i am so afraid of falling into my huge pit of self-doubt and men, men, men! two-faced basilisks i fear no heights no insects no rodents just your venom. with no knowledge nada nobody really knows a snake is venomous till it bares its fangs and sinks them into your thigh femural arteries so sexy hannibal lecter knife sex blood sex blood driving me insane venom men snakes love, love snakes, love, snakes, men, sex, blood, venom. trust faith trust faith blind jump pit black pitch-black fear innocuous. love, sex, hotel, sex, love, hotel, love hotel, love hotels.
i’m not making sense nobody does who decides whats sensible and whats not and i could rant and write and rave and scream but can you hear my insides yelling behind the screen of this black macbook can you can you can you can you can you.
my every cell protests against this irrational feeling emotion whatchamacallit and yes it is unnatural beyond reason beyond comprehension what IS reason what IS comprehension nobody really knows nobody knows if im making sense nobody knows what is sense someone define everything in a handbook and mass-publish it and burn all the nonsensical philosophy books i don’t read and don’t have the brain cells to even try.
after so much gibberish, i just wanted to say.
i love you too.
and i know i shouldn’t.
but nonetheless,
iloveyou.
it’s really quite sad because after so long you dress like a cheap slut and you’re still dating the ah bengs. and you’re so pretty it’s so sad how cheap you look. and you call me fat(slut!).
ten years later you’ll be stuck with your ah beng boyfriend saying cheap nothings and you’ll be fat and haggard and cheap from your nonsense.
you have no idea how i bump into our mutual friends at the club and start bitching about what a wannabe you are over white wine and champagne. you try too hard darling.
no wonder you get tossed around the various spiky-haired ah bengs. not to mention you’re the biggest cheapskate ever. i loathe cheapskates.
i have no idea how we used to be FRIENDS. sheesh.
