I know these scars will heal

but I pray they never fade
'cause I need a reminder of the mistakes I have made

All my life I've been good at making myself bleed.
I don't really sleep anymore. There's too much on my mind.
He makes me happy and life makes me sad, and sometimes I still can't forgive myself for mistakes I made over a year ago. "Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it." I've learned more than I can handle. I've learned that the world is prettier when I'm not wearing glasses. I've learned that I'd rather someone leave me than have to live with the knowledge that I left someone else. I've learned who my friends are, and I've learned that the only reason I can't hurt myself anymore is because when I do, it hurts people who love me.
I've learned that I feel self-obsessed when I write things like this, but I need to get it out of my brain somehow.
I spend a lot of time waiting on him.
That's okay by me.
People are stupid, and I am a person too.

I always told myself I'd never stop creating.
My camera broke, I can't take pictures.
My heart broke, I can't write songs.
This isn't art, this is my brain.

Yeah, hi.

I'm back from my blogging hiatus.
Because I have my own computer now.
So it's not a pain to deal with anymore.

Life updates:
The boy I used to write love songs about broke up with me.
I have a new boyfriend. I'm not in love with him. But I do like him a lot.

I have a vision for what this blog is going to become. Take three. Let's do this thing.

apache rose peacock?!

My way with words is on it's way to a full recovery. :)

This song is [obviously] still in the works, and I haven't decided if I like it or not. 

if I still prayed I'd be thinking of you

if I still thought I'd be praying in your footsteps 

in a world of rhyme schemes and chalkboard-numbers 

indefinable's not one of a kind

take time to wonder

but please don't  mind

fill up my inbox when I'm gone

this gypsy life gets me every time 

and you can leave the girl who loves me

back in Carolina, but it's getting stronger

weeks can't get much longer

back and forth and inside-out

but everything's the same

alike, alone, inane 

please try a little harder 

to comprehend my lingo

I know it's a little out there

but I'll trace it in the snow

and if I slip a love note

into your trench-coat pocket

it's because your on my mind

and I don't know how to show

you everything I mean

when I say I love you too

I'm pinning scrap paper to my walls

in hopes of you

if you have to ask

Blood Sugar Sex Magik by the Red Hot Chili Peppers is an amazing album, and I'd think so no matter how I obtained it. Anyone who likes psychedelic rock, funk, or alternative needs to listen to it. In fact, even if you don't listen to any of those, check it out anyways. 

Lately I've been having a horrible case of writer's block.

Symptoms:

inability to write anything even remotely original

inability to rhyme adequately 

inability to think up any good melodies or rhythms.

Swine flu?

And of course all of this is accompanied by an  intense desire to write.  Woohoo!

In other news, there is a receipt hanging on my wall, I want to learn drums so badly that I'm kind of dying, and my uncle gave me a camera!

I love it, and I'm already taking a ton of pictures, but I can't find the stupid unloader thingy... >< 

i'm too creepy for my own good.

I follow blogs of people I don't know.
Go me.
(I figured it was creepier to just stalk them regularly.)