the BRUTAL, UGLY truth of my FABULOUS, BEAUTIFUL life.
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9:55 p.m. + 2005-05-17 = "i don't understand when things turn gray; i'm not who i was in the morning."
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i just want the noise to stop. for everyone to shut up. for the rain to fall some more. for a song to come out of this blockedasfuck mind.
don't ask me if i'm allright. the question irritates me to no end.
sometimes for someones, the privilege of worrying-about-me has been lost or is on probation.
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comments?? --->[thisaway]--->[[looks to me as though there are...]]---> 0 repercussions thus far
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[prologue] *** [epilogue] ***[plottwist!]
[[erstwhile]] ***** [[forthwith]]
