|
Dme
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Dennis
Country: United States
State: California
Birthday: 5/20/1987
Gender: Male
Interests: badmintzizon, any kinda sports, friends, blunt one word phrases, non-homework activities. New found glory of God
Expertise: sleeping, eating, randomness, and sleeeping
Occupation: Student
Industry: Other
Message: message me
Member Since:
11/17/2003
|
|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| I never knew that in moving to Fremont, i would lose even the closest of friends. People that i've thought had my back and were there for me when i needed them. People i've known for years. I don't understand how one day i could be having a good conversation, next day there would be no call backs or communication at all. Fuck all the people who I thought were once good friends. People i thought did not take it for granted when i treated them out to eat or borrow money. People that do not value the time i take driving from Fremont just to visit. People that do not value friendship and will only call if they need something. Fuck you. In the wake of this i understand who my true friends are and much love to all my friends who are still homies who i know got my back.
| | |
| I'm stuck.
Stuck like a glue of emotion.
I cant shake, twist, wrench, or pull it off.
No matter how much i try to push and pull, nothing good comes of it.
Im stuck.
Stuck in a cycle i thought i could get out of.
But i cant.
I've seen other people stuck but never thought id be in the same situation.
Someone invent glue remover.
So i can be released of this cycle of pain and never take the risk again.
Understand yourself before you risk figuring out this glue.
| | |
| been a while since i wrote any deep writes, so heres one for now.
From the depths of my thoughts, it still hurts. from the surface of my mind, it still hurts. why? because it is a scar. a brash unforgiving slice of dignity that has been taken away from me and torn to pieces. is someone charged with this crime of soul wrenching unforgivingness? no. no one is to blame. no touch or love can heal my wounds, but the beauty isn't wear the scar is. it is how it is covered up for no one to realize its potency. it is how one portrays himself to fit into a society. it is how one grows adding layers and layers of cushion just for an occasional quick moment, that lets one block away the thoughts. the thoughts of anguish and distrust. does it still hurt? yes. will it ever change? no
| | |
| if i did it before, i can do it again. go with your gut, have no regrets | | |
|
