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- rena jae (
x_tonight__) wrote,
- Mood:
depressed
"Tomorrow's gonna come too soon." -Eve 6
To a sky that's coloured blue
Somewhere someone's finding happiness
While I'm still here so hung up on you
Nothing is real and I want you to know that I'm not alright
Tear open my chest, I'll try not to flinch
Won't make promises, I won't make promises
You taught me that
I'm still losing what's left of my self-esteem
And I'm still watching the slow fading of all my daydreams
The hardest things to say are the words that mean the most
So I'll bite my tongue 'til it bleeds and I doubt you'll even know
The easiest things to fake are feelings to fool someone else
And I've been tricked for so long by you, spent these last few months in my own hell
A failed apology, a day too late, but now I see
That all you really want's to see me dangle neck first from a tree
But what would you need me for? You've got friends galore
And all you've ever been to me is a waste of time and nothing more
Nothing is real and I want you to know that I'm not alright
When you tear open my chest, I'll try not to flinch
I won't make promises
You taught me that
I hate myself for loving you like this
And I hate myself for hating myself
Just enough to love you
Just enough to love you
I'm in a bad place today. It's been a bad couple days. Or weeks really. I don't know what it is. It's perpetual. It's terrible. Vodka has taken the edge off a bit. I guess.
But with today, it's one less thing I have to worry about I guess. I mean, it's like parts of my life, all compartmentalized and neat and separate. It's like drawing an X through bits and pieces. Drop a person, change the scenery, whatever. Resign myself to the people I lose, the people I [sometimes voluntarily] choose never to see again. I keep thinking about the future. I used to be all about five and ten-year-plans. Now they make me depressed the more I veer off course from my intentions. That and when I consider the future, I wonder if this is it? Does it really never get better? Is this as good as I can be? The best I can feel? All the happiness I ever get? Then I take something to interfere with my thinking because the thoughts are nearly paralyzing.
I'm supposed to be social Saturday. If I didn't have obligations, I'd consider spending the day unconscious. On a sidenote, I like being able to write while intoxicated even if a bit incoherently.
And here it is: I feel empty. Revelation. That's all.
I'm a lush, I'm shutting up now.