Warm up

Pain. Pain and blood is the proof that we are still alive.

The red post

One of those days something great will happen and I will be there!

Somedays I only read Chuck Palahniuk's quotes and I feel bad about myself in a really good way though. I really love this man. 

For this:

“It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.” 

And this:

"Masochism is a valuable job skill."

And this:

“If I can't be beautiful, I want to be invisible.” 

I like him from head to toe, if you know what i mean.

Dear Bed,

Oh sweet, comfortable bed. We go back a long way you and I. But I got to ask you this, Why do you treat me so bad nowadays?  

I know I haven’t been there for a long time now but I thought you would understand. I know I have stained you with coffee and tea and blood and mascara and I know that for a long time I have chosen another one but you, but please help me sleep at nights.  And when I wake up in the middle of the night take me back again, I am just afraid. Please let me rest and not think for a while. It feels like you are the only one that’s left, so comfort me and hug me and let me lay down silently until January.

I know it’s unfair but please be my friend again.

Love,

D.

warm cat/cold heart

"If you will die for me,
I will die for you
and our graves will be like two lovers washing
their clothes together
in a laundromat
If you will bring the soap
I will bring the bleach"
-Richard Brautigan

In other news.. all I do is watch porn and being miserable. Somebody told me that you can find true love there. I'm still looking..

"She started smoking poetry"

You really enjoy when I'm waiting for you 
and I really enjoy waiting too.

Or not.

New start #2

From "The ballad of reading gaol" by Oscar Wilde, 
which you told me you would read last night but you didn't.

...

I only knew what hunted thought

Quickened his step, and why

He looked upon the garish day

With such a wistful eye;

The man had killed the thing he loved

And so he had to die.

___

Yet each man kills the thing he loves

By each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,

And some when they are old;

Some strangle with the hands of Lust,

Some with the hands of Gold:

The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,

Some sell, and others buy;

Some do the deed with many tears,

And some without a sigh:

For each man kills the thing he loves,

Yet each man does not die.