| Current mood: | crushed |
| Current music: | coldplay-a whisper, bright eyes-if winter ends |
**insert lyric that only has meaning to me here**
the title of this journal finally seems appropriate. i've come to the conclusion that too many things i write in here are grossly misconstrewed. as a old friend of mine once said, "despite what i write in here, i'm generally a happy person". and i think that applies to me too. although many people wouldn't agree. the point is, i'm tired of this inhibiting communication instead of sparking it. i find it funny that if what i write in here had a catchy beat, i'd be a musical genius or at least my thoughts would be respected. but, i think this is me signing off for the last time. maybe i'll reappear somewhere. but maybe you won't notice. i hope you don't actually. this concept is now officially sour to me, not because of people jumping on the trend, but because of the damage that this is doing to my life. will i keep this for posterity? maybe.
so if you really want to know about my life, maybe you should try to be more involved in it.
i think i'm going to end with that lyric that as someone said to me today "everyone skips over anyways". today's events discourage me from calling anyone a friend, an enemy, an anything, so i won't even do that. this song makes me realize how things end and begin the same way sometimes. i started this journal because of this song, and now i end because of its message. i guess you really can't avoid the inevitable.
And I hide behind these books I read While scribbling my poetry Like art could save a wretch like me With some ideal ideology That no one could hope to achieve And I'm never real, it's just a sketch of me And everything I’ve made is trite and cheap and a waste Of paint Of tape Of time--bright eyes "waste of paint"
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