nonlucid i want to tell you one day (maybe today, maybe not) when nobody else is around (i never know who's reading my words) and defy the wisdom of don't_tell_the_person_that_you_love_about_blather tell you so_this_is_hell and i hate this, tell you how i hate (love) it when people think we're dating and i tell them we're not and love (hate) how people assume stuff about us (there_is_no_us)

and i know that that would likely utterly ruin our friendship (and i love our friendship) but I want to tell you the truth, want to break it, want to kill the best thing I have, hold my breath and link to this site, link to my name, the world all this is about you. Look what you've done to me. I shouldn't blame you, but I do. Look at me. Look at me. I am nothing (with or without you) and I know it. you're... so_perfect (in imperfection) and i cry as i write these words (thought you might like to know)

all this is about you... it's been nine months since i first thought I loved you and i've been up and down on a torrid rollercoaster of your obliviousness all this time and you never knew and i really, really, really, really want to tell you

because i know you don't (will never) love me and you like me very much sometimes (sometimes I'm just annoying, I know) but all in all I guess you think I'm not that bad, a bit of an idiot but...

because it's summer and I don't have to see you anymore, I want to tell you everything I've ever thought about you how I feel every single time I look at you send you the files that I've written about you all the words ever what i thought every time you hurt me without knowing it - the sappy song lyrics i pasted there, how i almost died when you went away for three weeks (and hated you when you came back)

how i refer to you as some mindless entity who tortures me but when I see you you're sweet and kind and ignoring me sometimes and... and everything. you're everything sometimes
and i know completely that you do not love me (love is such a strong word) and i like you (likelikelikelike) more than anyone else in my short existence
damn, the tears are pouring down my cheeks as i write this, hiding in front of the computer screen and i don't want anyone to see me

and I know... I know I am nothing to you, really... not that important... yet I can still sit at your feet for hours and just sit there... sit on the floor in the same room as you for hours as you ignore me and be happy and... then go home and cry.

and then I see you and the tears dry (you never know they were there) and... and... I want to change my MSN name to "did you know I love you?" and tell the world that I'm a loser, destroy myself for you, for you

but you don't need this crap from me, don't need your not-so-good friend to kill herself over you, I don't want to hurt you, but you're killing me. KILLING ME, I SAY!

damn. it's not that bad IT IS

someone help me.
give me a live other than you, and I will leave you alone.

i want to destroy this stupid friendship we have so I can find something else

should I?

and if you, random person, have read all this, you deserve a medal
because you have more patience than I ever would for reading the tortured stupid writings of just another voice
I guess I just want someone to listen and tell me what to do so I don't have to think for myself
puredream i read it through
i still feel you have more talking to do
let me know what you have to say
and ill begin to help you, today
nonlucid *grins* that was kind... thank you.

more talking you say? I could talk unto eternity on the subject... when i write, i cry, and then move on, go somewhere else, shut out the pain behind an ocean (salty, always), and it goes away for a while, ready to be triggered by the next time I find it, not curing

I believe if i find something better to do that spending the days tagging along with him and his gang (and if it's late enough at night, and my mind is sufficiently mildly insane) i may do it

bite the bullet, press the 'enter' key, and end the months of idiocy, i see waves behind the concept and know it will kill me... but perhaps it is necessary (the idea becomes ridiculous when I wake up in the morning)

but my inner critic tells me that it is pointless to write this, that nobody cares, that...
and then somebody says that they care and i believe them and continue but maybe they're just saying that because they're nice(r than me) and it relentlessly presses, telling me that I'm hateable that self-loathing is lucidity

orange crush i don't believe that i could change your mind so i have to take your word for it because why would you lie

i may not like it but i have no choice
i might cry but you would never see it because i hide it on the inside
where it should be when emotions fail you
pete interjection: the emotions mingling upon this page are mind numbingly beautiful.

let the words pass and away into the folds of the pages. moisten the envelope's flaps with you tears, write the address out, slowly, with your pain and place the stamp of your broken heart in the top right hand corner. i check my mail box everyday, waiting, always waiting, but never recieving that letter that i know you have written so long ago.
nonlucid a year changes things 050708
. i love you 051122
. i love you ttoooo 051123
anne-girl i_miss_you 060219
unhinged john_and_i

i think his girlfriend doesn't want me around. one of the last times i saw him i was helping them move into their new place and the mixed cd i made him before i moved out of town was laying in the middle of the living room floor. watching them start their happy little lives together made me want to stab my eyes out. i really can't handle being around both of them. he stopped by my place a couple days later because i had a breakdown in the car with one of our friends and he must of let some things slip to john. i told him if he ever wanted to hang out when he was on my side of town (which i know he is often dropping her off and picking her up from school) he should call.

i haven't heard from him since.

i'm so tired of putting forth all the effort. the last time i called him, i asked him to call me to tell me if he was or wasn't going to end up at the party and he never called. he knows i'm trying to quit; what he doesn't know is that i fell off the wagon. and i haven't had one phone call since to ask how i was doing. some friend he is.
unhinged finally really that's all i feel

and in our surprise reunion last week
he kept looooking at me
you know
that way
where you think you can see something in his eyes
that shouldn't be there
something that has always confused you
something that kept the impossible going
something that made his girlfriend hate you

something that i wanted to kick out of him
or scream
why the fuck do you still look at me like that?
unhinged or better yet why did you ever look at me like that if 'we're just friends'?

it's that look
that very look
that has made everyone that has ever seen us together
think that we're together
whatever word they might use for
that look
unhinged story of my goddamn life 070323
huh! huh... its called eye looking..

looking in the soul... it passes positive energy to each other.

sometimes it can be so lethal though.. you can't evenn look at the person ! or finish your sausage and mash !
. . 090210
unhinged and like most of my friends
you disappear when i need you most
forget all about me
when there is someone in your life
that will fuck you on a regular basis

i don't want to be alone today
but i don't have any friends to call
. when:

dissolves into:

(there's no getting away as the twisty tangly tiebacks catch wisps of hair)
Fate is having me for a snack tonight.
nonlucid darling lovely confused past me

that boy was totally into you the whole time. he sang you love songs on the street at midnight for christ's sake. how did you not notice.
what's it to you?
who go