such misfortune.

for me.
for all of us.
such a shame.
shame on me.
on you.
on humanity.
if we deserve to be called that anymore.


i think it's sort of funny, that i continue to blindly post on this blog, telling of completely unimportant things that no one honestly cares about.
i mean, out of the three to four people that read this blog, how many actually take something from it, think about it, and decide to care?
hm...


i find myself ever so lonely of late. i have so few friends, and it makes me sad.
i find that i have conflicting desires. i like to stay at home sometimes, but when i am at home, i find myself wishing my life was a whirlwind of friends and parties and shallow, mock fulfillment.
sort of like gatsby. but we know how his facade at happiness ended up. it ended him.


i'm sick again. i just recovered from an unfortunate cold over the weekend, and now i find myself again waking up with a throbbing head, raw throat, and blocked nasal passages, hardly able to climb down from my bed because my eyes go blind around the edges and my head feels like it's heavy, so heavy, and it's all i can do to stay upright. ugh.
drama. it's what i do.


speaking of drama...
it's unfortunate, the squabbles and arguments and fights and deaths, literal and figurative, happening everywhere.
the word respect seems like it's just a word these days.
of course, i'm sure i'm hardly one to talk, being as how as i see myself as a double-crossing, backstabbing, muckraking, gossipmonger. i sincerely hope i'm wrong about myself. and, of course, i'm exaggerating a bit as to the extent of my evils, but i find that i will never be good enough for anyone, i know this, and i draw ever closer to accepting it. as days go by, disappointment flashes constantly before me, nothing changes, i realize.


"please just don't play with me
my paper heart will bleed.
this wait for destiny won't do.
be with me, please, i beseech you."
-the all-american rejects, my paper heart