i wrote this like in january 2006

digging through my old lj which i was trying to clear out.. i saw this and thought it was too good to just delete. funny how some of it has changed but most of it hasn't:

"dear world-
i'm one li(n)e away from a slit wrist and one tear away from drowning myself. my last thread is being sown into my coffin, my funeral attire. did i ever tell you how a smile is just waiting for the truth? rock bottom looks like it'd be nice from down here. this is the lowest low. i promised myself i'd live to at least write a book but i'm running out of words. running out of motivation. drained.

i don't have time to do anything but waste my life.

and this isn't even a life.

sitting online waiting to hear a new rumor about yourself from a new person you've never even fucking met or talked to is hardly living. oh, what will it be this time? i wish someone would make up something cool about me like i shot jfk or i used to use dinosaurs as flesheating death monsters. but no. only lame internet ones. if you could see behind the computer screen we're all equally losers to give this much a shit about anyone elses' lives or our own lives online. if you have to sit around telling rumors about someone, you're no better off than the person you're talking shit about.

and no. i'm running on empty, on a tank that can't be filled anymore. out of ambition and under suspiousion. tired of proving myself and tired of the lies. sometimes you start to give up the fight, you're fighting a losing battle and losing time doing it. sometimes you realize there isn't a reason to live and your eyes well up with tears- at least it hides the fact they're bloodshot. you're not what they say, and there's no way you can ever prove it.

my nine to five isn't just work it's a tylenol count. tylenol is a momentary relief. sleep is a break from the world, wake up at 9am to clock into more drama. no one ever thinks about what they're doing to someone else until there's someone else's blood on their hands. if you caused someone to kill themselves would you even feel remourse, guilt? no one ever stops to think about the words they say and how someone else might react to them. no one is cement. we're all fragile and willing to be broken. you tell yourself, "they're not worth it" and to live on- but what are you living for? more rumors? more lies? another fight just waiting on the next thread? the next entry?

sometimes i just want to unplug the computer but some of the best friends i have i've never met. some of the best friends i've ever had i never will meet.

someone at work today asked me if i had a black eye. i should have said "if you think i look bad you should see the other person," but it's just anemia. i like this lightheaded feeling. if i pass out at least i know i'm not missing out. for now a cold bed and a cold fate await me. sometimes i just wish the latter would come sooner than the first."