basically

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moustachio

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cause everybody is doing it

yea yea yea. im a hypocrite. so fuck me.

or ask me a question.

lets see how many people actually read the shit i regurgitate on this thing.

http://www.formspring.me/sharmd

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so here’s the truth.

i feel like you are doing it again. you found people who are more exciting, more superior, cooler, smarter, prettier, more everything - and as usual im your fucking spare.

maybe history isnt repeating itself again, but you fucked up one too many times and i expect you to do it again. everytime we are together its as though im on pins and needles, waiting for you to tell me how im not worth it.

why do you think i keep apologizing? i just feel like the second i lean on you, you are going to run. im just so goddamn tired of apologizing for being me. its draining the last few bits of whatever thats left in me.

i should probably have had the guts to say this to your face, but i desperately cling on cause im afraid of being alone. so instead of being by myself i stay although it feels like a constant headfuck.

i am screwed up and whinny and spoilt and useless and horrible and dull and a burden and everything you probably think i am. i am. but i you’re supposed to love me despite that.

i cant be your fucking spare.

but you’ll probably never know cause you dont read this and i’ll never get the guts to say it to your face.

im shit.

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thanks for waking me with your sex noises chris.

the coversation is whats killing me.

once you fuck, you should then shut the fuck up and get to bed.

jesus.

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procrastination.

i have a shit load to do.

but i really dont want to.

talked to sarah after a long as time.

i miss 5sc1. it was home for a very long time. and now, it quite isnt. and that makes me sad.

and yet this may be my potential career. im going to be morally fucked arent i?

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thursday night.

rushed to society of illustrator.

worked.

got paid 20 (all which is gone now. thanks a lot postage and art supplies).

reached kosciuszko.

didnt want to go back.

went to gbm.

had cheapest beer.

alone.

listened to really really bad music. really bad.

nearly finished beer.

approached by drunk hipster who “likes indian girls”.

talked a bit.

was cute. then got creepy.

told him to fuck off and left.

he followed me down my fucking street.

half way back to the apt gave me a wet gross one.

my first kiss.

by a gross drunk hipster. must be a karmic joke.

started getting really creepy.

waldo walked down the street at that exact moment. never in my life have i been so happy to see the bastard.

told hipster no.

and never looked back.

to be saved by the waldo. who would have thought.

so that was my night.

how was yours?

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so my head is falling to pieces. i want to run. scream. cut. jump. bite. rip. scratch. bleed.

im out of breath sitting motionless. my head wont stop running. and i cant stop choking.

so im fucking crazy. maybe being a medicated and dead panned is better?

i cant possible get hooked again. but i want to so fucking bad.

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there is some wonderful and ingenous about this image. it’s so striking and i just couldn’t stop staring at it. so i thought i would share.

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so what do you do

when it hurts to breath.

i give up. i fucking give up.

wake me up when this shit is over.

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its been ages since i wrote anything.

went home for break. it was surprisingly awesome. after a long time, it finally feels like a family again.

came back to ny.

i dont know anymore. im just so confused. is it worth this much. is it worth feeling like shit about everyday. im not even trying anymore. at least before things were kinda working out. now its not even….trying to resemble a life that isnt falling apart.

i dont know what ive dont to deserve this. it really is one fucking unfortunate event after another. i mean its easy to pretend in front of everyone that im happy and chirpy and not giving a flying fuck - but inside i just feel so godamn hallow. and even more guilty for not being able to appreciate anything.

i guess im just never going to be happy. and the worse part is im probably standing in the way of it ever getting better.