Nothing feels good anymore and i'm just a sad boy

idk yet

You should know that I am dead
And it's all your fault
I fell from a very high place
My blood splattered on the pavement

.....

My mind and my heart are at war

Stare into the Sun

It's such a fickle thing
A cold wind could destroy it
Or strengthen it to no end
This thing called love
And once we've found it
We'll move to someplace warm
And begin our lives
of staring into the sun
Feel the heat on your pupils
And afterwards follow the spots
The spots in your eyes
They'll lead you to me
And to everything we've wanted
Like going on adventures
And camping underneath the stars
Next to the dying fire
We can let it die because
All the warmth in the world
Is laying next to me
And once we find that peace
We can let ourselves fall in love
And begin our lives
Of staring into the moon

Dream journal #1 1-17-14

Starts off in my grandmothers house where I am living now, but a little different can't place how. Don (mom's bf) and I are playing mine craft together to help Sonny and Enzo (Don's godchildren)with a thing they were doing, but then they came to the house and we all went to the beach. I think I've dreamt of this house before. It's a three story with a basement garage. Kinda tall and skinny. Sometime after that, it's me and my mom and for some reason we drive out onto the frozen lake and break through the ice. I pull the car back to the shore but the water wasn't cold at all. So the scene shifts and I'm walking into a library with Ian, Doug, and Emma and we're doing multiple illegal things there I can't really remember the specifics, but it was midnight on Christmas Eve. I remember that Mr. Wynne had a speech or public speaking thing there that we all sat down for. Eventually the library caught on to what we were doing and we ran into the woods behind the library. But somehow Declan had become a cop and caught us and cuffed us, but we didn't get in trouble because Drclan was a good dude. Scene shift again. My grandmother's house again, but the old fat lady from AHS, Jennifer Lawrence, and other notable famous people are there.  But they were doing a radio show from my bedroom and I was apparently someone famous as well. But we moved to the dinning room table to do the show from and I made some food dish of sorts.  But my house was old and nothing really worked so they all helped out to fix it. And towards the end Jennifer Lawrence's dress snagged and she was in her matching waist high granny panties but somehow still hot. Then I woke up...

Crayons

All our pictures are in bittersweet sepia 

Desert sands and tumbleweed 

Dandelions in outer space 

But what's the difference between a peach and an apricot?

Robin eggs can be found next to pines

But you'll never see a shadow in the wild blue yonder

All that's gold may not glitter

But none of that matters

I'm colorblind. 

Frustrated Sighs

Close your eyes

Feel the world

Spinning beneath 

And melt away

Like the snow

Clench your fists

Remember his words

Don't let go

Even though 

That's all the past

Open your mind

Now let it go

You will be okay

I promise

Just be patient

Open your heart

Let me in

Stop resisting

You won't hurt me

I will try and fix you

Gym Lies

Last Saturday you said you'd study this time, but this Saturday has come and gone and you didn't even crack the book. You told me you would stop drinking too, but now it's midnight and you called me drunk again. It's almost like you forget yourself and what you tell yourself. You set a goal, make a promise, promise to change or to keep things the way they were, all these girls say they'll hit the gym but none of them will. I keep repeating what you said in my head, "I need a friend right now, not a lover" you said that then, but now you just ignore me and turn your head. Lies lies lies or maybe the cold hard truth. Is this what you want a broken memory of what could have been? I've apologized for reasons unknown, but you set a goal, make a promise, to change or to keep things the way they were, all these girls say they will hit the gym but none of them will. 

Life as a Poser

I guess I'm a poser

Because I listen to indie

Punks don't listen to indie

I guess I'm a poser 

Because I don't wear patches

Punks wear patches

I guess I'm a poser 

Because I'm against violence

Punks aren't against violence

I guess I'm a poser 

Because I fell in love

Punks don't fall in love

But if I'm a poser 

Then when will I die?

Cause only posers die. 

Triggers

Sometimes I think about killing myself. I wonder how people would react. What they would feel if I didn't leave a note? Who would feel guilt? Who would feel shame? Who would wish they had spoken to me more often? Would I make that much of a splash? Would anyone cry for me? Would anyone care?