I am continually amused at the passive self centered Dear diary blogs I have seen.
People share they're blog site hoping for hits..
I, (for instance) a stranger, go to these and instead of finding that you are as I once thought a inspired genius of morbid poetry..you're simply a little girl that has allot of bad days, and like to share them unabashed with the public.
There hasn't been one strong emotion that didn't involve the world acting a zoo, or you getting sick.
Theres no one left to really look up to is there?
No, shuu, shuu, crawl into your mind, hibernate there, and let the hate stew.
While your at it draw some more of those sad faced female men, that always have the tendency to look right out of a deck of 52 cards.
I think your art represents your spirit, no wrong, your soul.
it's the mixture of both body and spirit.
yes it's a classic case of Mr. Grey.
Only by painting those daily pictures and seeing them degres you should have more epiphanies.
Your documenting your death, and doing it with particular care.
And while I wonder if anyone has had the audacity to rub it in your face, God help me, cause here I sit talking about it to 2 people instead of writing you.
I quote from thee
" I suppose I've realized this as a result of talking with people and finding that we're not really talking about anything in particular. I've wanted to talk about deep things, but I suppose there's not anyone I can trust other than a computer screen."
well honestly, if you can't be truthful with your self you might just not have it in you.
I can't tell you how much I would love to see you in the sun, burning old canvas
and I don't even know your real name
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