There are so many things that I could write about. But I can't. Whatever happened to the good old freedom of speech and expression?

*makes sad face*

They say that alcohol is like buttsex...it's an acquired taste, it satisfies a percentage of your needs and it's safe. But never ever can it be the real thing. Never can it fully satisfy you, satiate you.

Marijuana can never be replaced.

Neither can sex be replaced.

Oh dear lord, what kind of a world are we living in, where sex, drugs and rock and roll are the only thing that matters!

PS~I DON'T SMOKE weed anymore, haven't for months now. Turns out that it is bad for my throat. Also, I do not practise sodomy either. Go figure!

There are good days.

Bad days.

And days when you fall in love all over again!

:)

Like being kicked in the stomach, repeatedly.

I'm trying to purge out all the thoughts.

But they never do exit my system, they keep coming back once in a while.

I see traces of my monster everywhere. It's hidden somewhere deep down inside all the people who matter to me, waiting to pounce on me. Waiting to scratch my face and disfigure me. Waiting to taint my soul with it's impure blood, again.

It's a cyclic process.

There is no beginning.

There is no end.

At least for now.

The nightmares now come and go like they're a part of the scripted reality (and part fiction) that I live in.

I'm wasting away, with each passing minute. I'm disappearing into the big nothingness that is time. I'm fading into oblivion. I'm losing my life in the gamble of fate, destiny and death.

I'm dying.

With each second that's flying past, I'm growing old. And ugly. And weary. And fragile.

Stop, please?