dear-lei

My gut feeling has been deceiving me as of a week or so ago. Staying away was probably the smartest move I've made til recently; Hermit up my life to stay somewhat sane. Go out when I've had enough of my living quarters. Chill with one, maybe two close friends, and call it a "search for _______'s birthday present" or the "search for much needed necessities". (That reminds me :: takes note :: "Welch's Grape Juice") Have a couple hour long conversation about pickles, cow bells, and things that make you go "wuh-WUH?", then call it a night. Home safe. I can barely breathe. My stomach is starving, but my mind is telling me I'm full. I haven't fel

At this point, I don't see myself going anywhere soon with anyone at all. I've gotten so used to the lack of love from all the people around me that it's burned me dry. I'm turning into a fucking stone. It's gotten to the point where I could care less what happens to me. Because I know, not even my own mother would give a damn about where I am or how I'm feeling. -- I had more typed out. But it feels like I'm reopening a nasty wound. Why bother when it's going to cause more bullshit. I need a pick-me-up. And bad. :(

My poetry bug has disappeared, and I could really use some assistance on subjects to write about. x.x Oh well... I'll be around. :: opens up photoshop ::