I'm going to start writing raw thoughts. Just fucking stark real bullshit that surfaces from the inner reccesses of my mind, no editing my thoughts or adding pulsing words that try to appear beautiful and decieve us all. No deleting, no censoring, no fixing. I don't have to show it to anyone so it doesnt matter how ugly and crazy I appear, I'm the only one that will ever lay eyes on the flith that my soul is trying to release. I'm not a poet and I'm not a writer I'm not even a fighter I just barely survive and I just pour all my confusion and fears into this insane online journal in hopes it will comfort my paranoia and disease. Who am I? I don't even know. The layers I posess are endless and fathomless to explore. I wish I could tell you my exciting life story and tragedies and slowly show you why I am the person that I have become. But I have none of that. It's as if I was only born two years ago and all the pain and suffering and screaming I've wade through these past two years amount to nothing. There is actually no point in talking about them or blaming anyone or crying about my mistakes. My whole reality was a lie. And this is the beginning of my destruction. Your now welcome to pick apart my thoughts and feed on my useless rambings of idiocy and insanity as I attempt to survive in this wasteland just a little longer.
I am quite literally a skeleton that inhabits the wiry, self destructive body of an insane, aching young girl.