I'm blaring Everyone's At It by Lily Allen remix by Doctor RosenRosen. You should DEFINITELY cop the free album off his site. He's remixed Lily Allen's entire album...It's called It's Not Me, It's DoctorRosenRosen.
Every once in awhile I go through these bouts of depression. I guess you could say it's hereditary. I'm sure of it, or else why is my mom popping antidepressants and anti-anxiety pills like they're candy?All my life I've been trying to please this woman, point out all her flaws, and tell her how I feel she's ruined my life and now I have become her: A single women waiting for prince charming to come and pick her from the wreckage that is her life. I digress.
Maybe this loneliness has been brought by the fact that I have no friends...not real ones. I mean, girls that I went to school with are starting to get married. And as I thought about it, I realized I would have no bridesmaids. Does family count? Even use my birthday for example. It was hard to come up with people to invite. I'm sorry if this is offending anyone. I mean it's not like any of you are reading this, but if one of you so happen to stumble across this and reads this, sorry. Fuck.
Lately I've felt some creepy spider woman with prey just accidentally stumbling into my web. Maybe a vampire analogy would be better. It's as if I'm glamouring people 24/7 unintentionally. Then I get "You're a pretty girl, you should have no problem finding a boyfriend." Yeah I have no problem unintentionally becoming a homewrecker (twice now) or leading guys on. I'm just naturally more of a fellas girl...maybe because I'm so brassy and blunt with what I say. It doesn't mean I have a secret agenda with my guys. I believe in chemistry first...without it, there's nothing. I'm rambling now...
Point is there is two very large bottles of Vodka in my freezer that I want to drink myself into a drunk stuppor or maybe I'll pop some of mommy's happy pills...I'm tired of fucking analyzing myself ...I don't want to be in my head anymore! I feel like I'm driving with no brakes, just avoiding crashes. Had an episode last night...I could just stared at the clock and hypervenalated til I passed out. Mom would have thought I was sleeping and went to work. Things would have carried on as usual. And I could have stopped the car...I failed and pulled the 300ml of insulin through the syringe, stuck the needle in my skin and sat there gasping air as I stare at the clock. Another failed attempt...You'd think after 7 years I would get it right. I keep a smile on my face as my eyes water at my secret I try to hide. I tured 21 last month...a year older, a year closer to death.
Ha, don't even have the energy to be creative or poetic with this one.
It is what it is. Take what you will
