We're through, you and I. Because you never could trust me. You never have. You can't convince me that you have. So this is goodbye. Maybe we'll be friends, though I doubt it'll work until you grow the fuck up. It's really sad that people have to yell in your face to tell you you're childish, that you seem to admit to it, yet never change.
I defended you. There was a time when I probably loved you. I don't know when it faded. But I don't love you anymore, because I'm sick and tired of your shit. I'm sick and tired of you thinking you can manipulate me. You didn't make me like anything- I would have liked that stuff regardless of who introduced me to it. Don't think you're so special.
You need to realise one thing.
People leave you in the dust because you treat them like objects. You treat them like they're yours to do with as you please. You don't talk to people you find annoying, and instead of just TELLING people, you beat around the bush and make it worse. IF YOU WOULD JUST TALK IT WOULDN'T BE SO HARD. Stop being so scared, because life's not worth living if you're not willing to take a risk.
Get off your ass and stop complaining about things. Stop lying. Stop treating people like they don't matter.
And I know you.
You'll say you knew this would happen, you'll beg for pity from everyone. You'll make a sobby post about how your life is over and maybe even dig some flesh out of those wrists. You'll do anything for attention. When the attention shifts, you do something like this because heaven forbid the spotlight get off of you.
You're no better than the people that annoy you.
You're a legend in this room, only in this room.
Oh goodness me, oh goodness, my mind has slipped
And wiped you away from it.
Same shit, different day, same shit.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Monday, November 5, 2007
there's nothing pleasant about tearing me in half.
I wish you'd both reconcile. I wish you'd realize that you're both being childish. Running away may give you peace of mind and take you away from the problem at hand, but it won't fix this. You were so close and you let something like petty jealousy (over something nonexistent, mind you) break everything. It's all in your head, and you don't want to hear it because you hate being wrong. You hate it so much that you're willing to lose all of your friends just to be right.
Ever since you left, you've changed. If you don't believe people can change, then you can't even see yourself. Because you're not the same person I knew a few weeks ago. You're proof enough, so look at yourself through my eyes- yours are too clouded with bias to know the difference. Maybe you feel more comfortable in your new skin because you're not being yourself. Did you ever think that you're pretending to be who you wish you were? But that's not the person we've grown to love, my dear. We loved you the way you were- granted with slight improvements. This new you is too different, and I daresay too rash and prone to bad judgment.
I don't remember you ever being so temperamental. Maybe I just didn't really know you. But the change is far too sudden and the only thing I can attribute it to is the most sudden change.
If you must know, people are tired of hearing complaints and excuses.
By all means, complain. No one can stop you. But don't get so upset when someone tries to suggest something, and don't just write it off with a simple excuse. I know I'm guilty for making excuses, but if I didn't I wouldn't be human. Besides, it takes one to know one, as the saying goes.
To the other party involved, you're letting your age and immaturity be your only excuse sometimes. People wonder why I stick so close to you, and sometimes I wonder it too. I really wish you'd stop trying to be so cool for everyone and just be. There's a certain facade you exude that needs to be broken down like Berlin. You're just trying so hard to fit in, and you're making it- there's no mistake about that- but you're not being true to yourself...
People don't just suddenly hate that which they loved. You're only telling yourself that because you don't want the words and the songs to own your heartbeats.
Because if you lie to yourself about it enough, it might become truth.
But that's not the way to do things, and I wish you could admit to it.
This is me getting my thoughts out, no matter how jumbled they may be. This is me trying to explain what I want from you, and you. This is the only way I know how to say it, and I want to say it so desperately to you both but I lack the courage. I doubt this will ever be read by the ones that need to read it most, the ones that will understand its meaning, be offended or upset by it, not want to talk to me, whatever. But I'm too much of a coward to say it to anyone's face.
Ever since you left, you've changed. If you don't believe people can change, then you can't even see yourself. Because you're not the same person I knew a few weeks ago. You're proof enough, so look at yourself through my eyes- yours are too clouded with bias to know the difference. Maybe you feel more comfortable in your new skin because you're not being yourself. Did you ever think that you're pretending to be who you wish you were? But that's not the person we've grown to love, my dear. We loved you the way you were- granted with slight improvements. This new you is too different, and I daresay too rash and prone to bad judgment.
I don't remember you ever being so temperamental. Maybe I just didn't really know you. But the change is far too sudden and the only thing I can attribute it to is the most sudden change.
If you must know, people are tired of hearing complaints and excuses.
By all means, complain. No one can stop you. But don't get so upset when someone tries to suggest something, and don't just write it off with a simple excuse. I know I'm guilty for making excuses, but if I didn't I wouldn't be human. Besides, it takes one to know one, as the saying goes.
To the other party involved, you're letting your age and immaturity be your only excuse sometimes. People wonder why I stick so close to you, and sometimes I wonder it too. I really wish you'd stop trying to be so cool for everyone and just be. There's a certain facade you exude that needs to be broken down like Berlin. You're just trying so hard to fit in, and you're making it- there's no mistake about that- but you're not being true to yourself...
People don't just suddenly hate that which they loved. You're only telling yourself that because you don't want the words and the songs to own your heartbeats.
Because if you lie to yourself about it enough, it might become truth.
But that's not the way to do things, and I wish you could admit to it.
This is me getting my thoughts out, no matter how jumbled they may be. This is me trying to explain what I want from you, and you. This is the only way I know how to say it, and I want to say it so desperately to you both but I lack the courage. I doubt this will ever be read by the ones that need to read it most, the ones that will understand its meaning, be offended or upset by it, not want to talk to me, whatever. But I'm too much of a coward to say it to anyone's face.
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