| when you're a creature of secrecy who finds respite in a den of well kept secrets, honesty isn't the redemption everyone else claims it is. for you, it's unbearable vulnerablilty. it's a danger you've learned to avoid for good reason. it's a weapon you use against everybody but yourself.
don't ask me to be honest for you.
you don't even care enough to know me. |
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| ok, so like an ex that I just can't stand, I keep coming back to xanga. I just listened to the beginning of Adrienne like, fifty goddamn times going through my old entries. I don't remember how to get rid of it.
So Adrienne, on the off chance that you still use xanga and the even off-er chance that you still look at mine, I'm deeply sorry. I know you hate that song. so, facebook is too high profile, and myspace is a tool for letting your friends know about every time you get so wasted you puke on yourself. I need to write and I find I write better when there's a chance that someone might read what I write. I guess I'm just narcissistic like that. bottom line, xanga's perfect for what I've been using it for since middle school: whining and pretending I'm intelligent. so, one person who still visits my xanga, my thanks to you. |
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| I like how all these blog sites keep trying to one up each other.
seriously xanga, nobody cares anymore.
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| hey
wow, I'm druunk right now. woohoo.
I'm in college and I'm still immature enough to blog about how wasted I am.
but hey xanga, it's been a while.
whatever.
I'm in the land of abysmal purgatorial apathy, which is great.
Norcal, for sure.
everyone worth loving or caring about is a million miles away.
at least the weather is nice.
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| You just can't trust some people, no matter how much you want to.
They'll let you down, and the only thing you can do to save yourself is to expect it.
How is it so easy for you to care so little about the people around you? |
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