"Wish you weren't so pretty..."
"Wish you weren't so pretty..."
"Wish you weren't so pretty..."
It is becoming harder to fight on a daily basis, you know...
...when your chest feels like it's going to explode...like all the anger and frustration and unwanted bullshit is about to pop out and beat into your head Barry Bonds style.
I just want this to stop...I can't take this anymore.

I'm not supposed to be crying myself to sleep.
I'm not supposed to be aching for an excuse to hurt someone.
I'm not supposed to be thinking about where my swath of destruction shall lead if I lose my mind this week.

What the fuck happened to me? I was fine...at least considering the circumstances. Just last week, I was fine. Ever since Friday though...I've just wanted to kill or be killed...

...there's nowhere to turn to. NOWHERE. Not without consequence, anyway. There's no friendly ear to listen, no shoulder to lean on. Just me and my chest-demon.

God...if you could only see me now, mother. Perhaps I'm headed down the path of "Robert's" brother. Is this what happened to him? He just fucking lost it? He couldn't turn his head off and after so long and just snapped? Is that where I'm going? Because it sure as hell feels like I'm getting ready to lose myself or something important.

<<<< Tuesday, Sept. 27, 2005 || 7:19 AM >>>>
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