Stronger

Well, hello there new girl who you seem to adore so. She follows you like a lost puppy. She doesn't know you. As you act all victimized and hurt and 'oh woe is me lonely boy with a crazy ex' you've found yourself a...lovely new young woman. I do wish you well....somehow I keep telling myself I do, but you have just set yourself up to fail. Goodbye all care for you. Screw yourself over and stop acting like it was my fault.

Fuck you.



The irony of all the X-Tina songs that narrate this is intense. I'm glad no one has found this blog sometimes. My secret little child. Stay safe.

Peace, love, and rock n' roll.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas and happy holidays to everyone out there. I hope you're all save, and lovely, and warm and happy. And that you always will be.

However, I must self-indulge myself again and post this like every other woman who has had a guy step all over their faces.

YOU OUGHTA KNOW!
Phsychotic ex-girlfriend has stricken again.

I wish you well, I don't really mind, but this..you really oughta know of the mess you left when you went away. I don't want attention. I want you to know.


As numerous women have said before, the first verse of this is freakishly accurate...it's funny how low men go after you leave them. What a shame. She's almost like me, except...completely not good enough for you. shrug.

Dancing at Discos

Two days before Christmas I realize how much peace I am finding within myself. I've got to find the colors and lights within myself, not because others think I'm vibrant or bright. Breathing through my nose is also something that I'll never take for granted...chest colds+life long asthma=not fun.

Hhowever, I'm finding some comfort in the music around me, the happiness of Christmas, and my friends. And "Merry Happy" by Kate Nash



Don't tell me that you didn't try to check out my bum, I know that you did, cause your friend told me that you liked it... Don't try and tell me you didn't love me, I know that you did, because you said it and you wrote it down.

There are a million things I could hate because of him, and there was a time when I thought I would.
I could never use chapstick
I could cry through Fiddler on the Roof
I could never go back to Ross Park Mall
I could never listen to Blink-182 again and cry whenever "I Miss You" comes on the radio
I could forever hate hazel/green eyes
I could never buy that obese golden retriever we wanted
I could never wear my cat ears I bought for you again
I could never wear the pair of jeggings you nearly fucked up.
I could never trust again.
I could never smile again.
I could never love again.

But I refuse to let myself fade like that. I am determined to be happy and be strong and hopefully to love again. I will not let you take me under.

Sitting at restaurants, thought we were so grownup, but I know that we were not the people that we turned out to be. Chatting on the phone, can't take back those hours, but I won't regret because I know you can grow flowers from where dirt used to be.

I guess you just have to learn to let your broken heart be a sign that you loved, took a chance, and lived. All you can do is rebuild. Life is too short to waste crying over spilled....milk? or stupid boys....or both...thank you for the ability to get stains out of jeggings. On that note, hope everyone is in the holiday spirit. Christmas, heck yes! I am excited and you should be too. Just because.

Boredom

Blogging in school is definitely cool. The day before winter break is completely pointless...other than for masses of candy canes and presents. Phone just went off...probably another pocket dial. Uber rawr. Sickness isn't fun but presents and hats are.

Change Is Hard.

I Hate Compliments

Ice

Splits every crack in the pavement

After we’ve rolled the dice

My soul’s been trapped in enslavement

It burns every part of me

The way your hands used to

Somehow the pain I wish you’d see

Or maybe for it to suffocate you

So I can hear your breath choke

The way your voice used to

With the moan my lips could only provoke

But

My Sweet Angel Dear,

Your green eyes soften me so

That the hurt must disappear

The way I used to blow

For I don’t want you, no

I need to hold every part

And never let go

Unless to rip out thy heart

So

I can shred it to shatters

And watch you cry

The way you used to be all that matters

So you can die

Always by my side

Buried in this grave, ‘Twould suffice

Layered in century’s of Ice

My heart creates scary things when I hurt....This was my final release. The last tear I'll cry for him, the last hour of sleep lost. I've just let it go. A new lady has already stricken his boyish 'heart' while I have found some form of Christmas spirit. Plus, I asked Santa for some happiness this time around. I'm sick and tired of this man PMS drama, so I'm running as far away from this as I can.

"Change is Hard" She and Him -

Btw, blogger format ruined the pretty structure of the poem...it looked better before.

Goodbye, Sweet Decadance

We're lost it all, the love is gone. And we had magic, and this is tragic, you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. I feel like our world's been infected, and somehow you left me neglected. We found our live's been changed. Babe, you lost me.

Funny how that song cuts a little too close to home. Well, as everything that settles can settle and I attempt to rebuild my grades to no avail, everything is just spiralling out of control...far too fast for me to notice I've been gone.

And I will stand by you like a toy soldier. Prop me up, set my hands just right to pull you up out of where you have fallen. No matter how many times you've knocked me down.

But I've got to move forward, I can't sit here and let myself sink any lower. I owe it to the people around me not to be a mobile rain-cloud all the time. I'll work for the people around me, until I can rebuild myself...right...that may never happen again. Ah, well. Too much going on to sit in a bath of self-pity all night.



And we were sweet, but you chose lust when you decieved me, and you'll regret it, but it's too late. How can I ever trust anyone again?

The Point of It All

But it's better to spend your life watching life change at a comatose rate then to put yourself in it and become one of those cigarette ads that you hate.

Though it seems I'm ungrateful, I've never been so thankful for the beautiful friends I have. Thank you guys for all the support you have given me while I wallow in his wake. I love all of you. And plan on me pulling you out of every hole you may stumble into in the future.

Oh, but no one can stare at the wall as good as you my baby doll. And you're racist for playing along. You're almost human after all. Why on Earth would I keep you locked up in here, when you so love the fall. Well, the patterns laid out on the bed with hundreds of colors of thread, but you've got the needle I guess that's the point in the end.

Amanda Palmer may is one of the best song writers ever. Hands down. I can't even begin to explain how much I love her and am fascinated by her work. All the words cept my middle paragraph belong to her.