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Danglin' From Clotheslines. [13 Feb 2004|04:25pm]
[ music | gJ. ]

There's only a few things that truly anger me. They're the things that send me past the point of screaming on and on about nothingness, and instead leave me a mute and laying against a wall.

One of these things is people calling me eff-ing anorexic.

How ignorant can people be? Fine. I'm skinny. Get over it. Get the hell down out of your judgement seat and meet me half way. So I can set your assumptions up in flames.

Hi. My name is Lynea. And I am not anorexic.

[10 Feb 2004|11:19pm]
You're ridiculous.

And I kinda wanna shove an ice pick through your liver.

You deserve it.

You deserve to be laying half naked on your bed, begging for me to suck your cock. Clearly to no avail.

Maybe I'd be okay with this if I never considered you an amazing friend.

But I did.

So I guess it's all my fault.

Only not.

But we'll act like it is, so you can continue being a mad shady character. And save face.

Cause that's what the cool kids do.

[08 Feb 2004|06:47pm]
Every day does absolutely nothing but reinforce the fact that

I b l o o d y h a t e y o u .

To an extent that words cannot even describe.

I don't understand how many times I have to say it.


You useless piece of shit.

Let's start off with a combination of excessive gluttony and sloth, because we all know how good at those you are.

And if that fails, for one reason or another, you're gonna have to get used to the chill of kerosine real quick.

I'm not even kidding.

Don't act surprised if you wake up duct taped to that chair you love so much, with your pillow and beer replaced by a gas can and flames.

You make me a horrible person.

The Words Unspoken Are The Sharpest Knife. [03 Feb 2004|02:22pm]
[ music | Alanis Morissette. ]

It's weird. We've started to become really good friends. But it still seems like we're on the acquaintance level. Which sucks. It shouldn't be that way. I don't like only having friggin acquaintances. It takes way too much for me to let myself become friends with people.

Largely due to the fact that it's been statistically proven that I'm the shyest person in the United States.

But also. No one is like me. And I mean that in the least mallcore "normal people worry me" way possible. But what are the odds of me walking into a room and someone having a conversation with me about rape, car accidents, grammar, GlassJAw, legs, disturbing movies, Audrey Hepburn, and how hot baseball boys are?

Right. I'll let you know when that happens.

In the meantime, I'm gonna spend the rest of today sleeping, glaring at my Chemistry book, and calling myself a slut.

[10 Jan 2004|12:55pm]
[ music | Brand New. ]

So, yeah. I've been depressed lately. Very depressed, actually. And no, this isn't some, "oh woe, look at me" type of melodramatic attention-seeking bullshit. How many of you out there have known me to be down? I'm actually really fucking unhappy at the moment. And I definitely can't say why. Sometimes I just wanna sleep and forget about everything, but other times I feel like the happiest person alive. And I guess that I'm more happy than down most of the time. I'm putting it all down here cause I can't actually talk about this to another human being. It just doesn't work. It's similar to how it's easier to write a letter than to talk to someone on the telephone. I really don't want to "create a scene", but I need to get this out. I need to rant. And it's your choice to read this, not mine. I just put it here. This is not some attention-seeking device. This is the only place I can do this.

Things are not going great at the moment. I've been on autopilot for a while. I don't really want to go to sleep, because that'd just mean another day that is exactly the same. I need something else. I'm failing to see the point in a lot of things lately. It feels like I'm trapped in some fucking hamster wheel, over and over and over again. I wake up, to go to school. To learn about stupid bullshit that I'm not even going to need. Then I come home to do some more work. Then I go to sleep. Repeat process. Fuck. It's getting really depressing. I need something else. I have been so lonely lately. So fucking lonely. I just get so unsure of myself, and what I'm doing with myself, and whether I'm doing shit right or just fucking up my time. I want to find someone who I can be with and who can be with me without me fucking shit up. But when's that gonna happen?

Now, I know I'm gonna get the backlash. I'm gonna get people bitching at me. Asking "why the fuck do you feel like this?" when I "obviously" shouldn't, and "bullshit, you have so much going for you" which makes me even sicker and more pathetic. And then there's those who extend their false sympathy and concern, belittling whatever honest feelings I may be over angsting. Right. This has been a little too much for me, and I'm gonna end this here. I needed to do this.

[28 Nov 2003|05:37pm]
[ music | GlassJAw. ]

Last night after we ate, we were in the kitchen and my dad was cutting up the turkey and out of nowhere he goes "WELL I THINK I JUST RAPED THE HELL OUTTA THIS TURKEY." It was weird. Kind of like the time he threw that cup at me and said it came from the cabinet.

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