backyard crowing
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going to hell in a handbasket
The truth is, there's nowhere I'd rather be than outside today in the rain. I like when the weather reflects my mood.
I hate my mother again. She doesn't let me explain myself, and I hope she burns in hell. I just want her to die already. At this point, I wouldn't miss her at all.
I've been crying off and on all day now, and she has absolutely no fucking clue or sympathy.
I feel like drinking myself to death. And honestly, I've been thinking about killing myself so often now that I'm almost convinced that someday I'll meet my end by my own hand. It may not be anytime soon, but I am a passionate person and always will be. Perhaps too passionate, like Abbie, but that's fine with me. Intensity is a positive quality, even when it means killing yourself.
And yes, I just romanticized suicide. Fuck you.
I often think about how satisfying it would be to pain people via killing myself. To see them mourning and scared that they did it would make me happy.
11:32 pm - Tuesday, Mar. 18, 2008
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