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[19 Aug 2004|06:11pm]
[ mood | depressed ]
[ music | slipknot-pulse of the maggots ]

well, i've decided to put this journal in use.
partly because i actually know the people who read mah livejournal and surprisingly enough would rather have random people viewing the rants about my fucked up bitch of a life.

anyway, it's winter and i'm going through the usual fucking deep dark depression that comes along with it.
unfortunately this year there's no school or any activities(besides seeing my lovely bf, andrew)to fall back onto. every day has been the same since february and i'm at my wits end with emotional drainage. today i went to another USELESS fucking appointment with my psych, who refuses to put me where i belong for this period(hospital). she calmly sat there as i cried and tuned out to the world, while my parents talked with her and took in all her bullshit.
she said we'll see how i am on monday and then re-assess the situation. i can't fucking take it anymore, i'm not able to wallow in this shit for another 3 days. getting drunk and stoned doesn't even help anymore.
there's no point having plans for the rest of my life when i'm not sure if i can get through this awful period. living a worthless boring existence takes its toll after 6 months.
fuck it.

5 liars| insane?

[19 Dec 2003|12:41am]
[ mood | indescribable ]
[ music | kittie-paperdoll ]

how do i express how i feel into the spoken word? i can never seem to successfully achieve it, all that eventuates is a jumble of complete nonsense, the intention lost somewhere in between my mind and my mouth.
the only time when i can correctly communicate is when i am drunk. explains why dan and i found it difficult to converse the mornings after we'd been drunk, as we'd always have intense DNMs.

anyway, to jump subjects, i'm currently reading about australia's most haunted places.
quite disturbing, as i recall a time when i was about 9 or so and the school decided to once again take us on an excursion to fremantle prison. i distinctly remember walking through the gates for the hundredth time[having previously felt unsettling feelings] and upon reaching the book gallery, looking down into the mass of prison cells and seeing a man dressed in white staring at me from a window of one of the lower cells. he had strange eyes and was standing in front of a large white chair, that appeared to have restraints on it. i never have forgotten that experience..

on another final note, i carved the word 'hate' into my ankle last night.


[13 Dec 2003|11:56pm]
[ mood | crushed ]
[ music | mary mary-stigmata movie ]

why is life such a battle?
every thing good that comes to me, always ends up leaving me more broken than beforehand, thus making it impossible to even identify happiness as time goes by.
i'm afraid that oneday i'm going to hurt so much, that i'll be blinded by my bleeding heart and actually kill myself.
every time that i get remotely close to becoming better, i'll get knocked down by someone..can't they see my pain and how everlasting it is? they say it'll be alright, and nothing lasts forever, but enevitably i know this disease is going to kill me one way or another. and then the forever statement will be true; i won't last forever and neither will the hurt, for i will be dead, ending it all.


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