It was the intoxication for you that made me realize that I’ve been getting drunk of the wrong things for way to long

I’ve been sober before your lips, before your hands on my hips

You made me rethink the concept of being in a state sobriety

Because I would always see my self staring at the end of a bottle for a daring push into the world of extraordinary cliches to feel a sense of normalcy, different than awkward social convention I shoved myself into 

But then I found myself drinking you, and felt at ease, felt at peace

Because liquor isn’t supposed to transform you

It’s supposed to bring out your truest shade out form the shadows

Shadows that were born out of the constricted norms embedded into my mind before I could even think about playing with my barbie dolls

And then I drank a tangy mixture of cheap vodka, expensive self-derailemt and an aftertaste of a misplaced childhood.

And for the first time in my predetermined existence

For the first time in my etiquette driven, formulaic personality

For the first time my mask fell of my face

Tumbled down on to the floor

And fell between your fingertips

For the first time I wasn’t afraid of pain

I found comfort in the scars you left on my neck

Open wounds that got infected with delusions and ill-adviced caresses

Because with every stroke they became deeper

And now here I stand

That result of your carnage

Battered black and blue but holding on to your control over me


Waiting for you to bite deeper into me until I’m lost in my own oblivion

Only to find myself in your arms

Wanting to feel weak again

Craving the hangover 



I haven’t vented for a while and it’s really starting to get to me. This addiction of self-inflicting emotional pain is really getting out of hand and it’s all thanks to (bis surprise) a GUY. I can have my cliche moments once in a while and this is one of them.

I just don’t get it. Do men enjoy twisting the feelings and emotions of women for pleasure? Is it like a sport to them? What is it about driving women towards a downward spiral that they find so exhilarating. I mean seriously, how is having a girl go up and down a horrible emotional roller coaster for about 10 months FUN. Especially a dramatic girl, who’s actually going to get pissed at you because she, oh I don’t know, ACTUALLY FUCKING CARES ABOUT WHAT YOU’RE DOING IN GENERAL AN TO HER. And COME ON, really? The bull crap that you miss her and you want to never loose her. (Well I can’t really call is bull crap I fall for it all the time, but the point is WHY THE FUCK DO YOU SAY THOSE THINGS WHEN YOU REALLY DON’T CARE). And don’t come with the excuse that you feel sorry for her, because if you did you would have walked away when you fought, when she told you she wanted nothing to do with you, but you didn’t. You didn’t walk away. Why the fuck did you stay. You honestly don’t think it’s best for the mental health of the both of you for you to just leave her alone. She’s strong, she can get through it. But you won’t, and neither will she. None of you want to let go because sadly both of you, deep down, VERY DEEP DOWN, care. BUT YOU. Oh you who can only think with that small penis are blinded by a morality you don’t posses are so convinced you have the world on a sting wrapped around your finger that you can get away with having movie night and not paying attention to them. Well you actually succeeded but that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again, or maybe it will, or it won’t. Jesus why is this so goddamn complicated. WHY ARE YOU SO COMPLICATED. I’m actually trying to keep this as simple as I can but it’s hard, SO HARD because you except things to be fine. I’m not ok with “fine”. I don’t like “fine”. I want simple no baggage, happy go lucky, with normal *insert some socially acceptable label here* fights and not being terrified of kissing you or actually fucking you because there would be no moral implications involved.


I want my best friend back. All of him. And a little more. And I won’t ever get it. Because. He. Is. A. Fucking. Idiot

Didn’t take me so long to crack this time.


It’s not every night that one of your best friends calls you to tell you he has a gambling problem.

I picked up my cell just like any other night, usual phone call from someone I consider to be my older brother. He didn’t even say hello and just blutered out a hasted phrase, “I have a gambling problem and I just lost everything I had left.” I’ve never felt my heart sink so low so fast, and not only because of his problem, but because I found no words to say. That had to be the first time that I didn’t – and I still don’t – have any advice to say to someone I care about in regards to facing their problem, and the frustration is unbearable. Yes, he is an idiot and yes, he brought this on himself because he has no reason as to why he would need to gamble pretty much his life, but he did. And I can’t do anything about it other than worry.

There is no feeling that compares to hearing genuine fear on the other side of a phone line. It’s kind of feeling chills down the spine, but with a sinister connotation and a taunting from every hair that raises from the neck  that seems to laugh and say “There’s no hope for him anyway so why do you even care?” Unfortunately I can’t bring myself to not stress about his issue, but at the same time I know it’s something he has to deal with on his own. 

I’m still shaken by his voice. He’s 18! He shouldn’t be worried about debts to well, certain kinds of people – and I really do hope he exaggerated that phrase of my overactive imagination is getting to me. All I can do is wonder how he fell so far and how the hell can I help to pull him out of something that could end up suffocating him. The saddest part is I know how he fell, sadder than that is that it’s probably my fault as much as any of his douchy friends. He was never one to have much, but all his friends do, and as much as he convinces himself that it doesn’t matter, I know he cares. Apparently betting and gambling was the only logical way for him to make enough money to be on the same level and the asses he calls friends. The things I’ve said to him haven’t helped at all either. 

I’m not sure what he got into exactly and I’m scared for him.

And that’s all I can be.