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OOC Oct. 19th, 2006 @ 04:24 pm

HEY GUESS WHAT GUYS. I don't have the time for this any more. In fact, i don't even have time for my regular journal lately, but that's a whole 'nother story. My point is, i have to leave. I'm just way too busy with school and friends and concerts and blahblahblahblah.

Thus. I'm out. We'll just say Erik was transferred in case i ever get really bored and come back.

<3


Oct. 8th, 2006 @ 11:03 pm
Dear random pains,
  Please go away. I know i'm not recovering very well, but it would be very nice if you would stop. I haven't taken any pills, i haven't fasted for more than a day. I don't know why you still exist. I do not like this very much.
Love,
Erik
PS. Ow.
Current Mood: crappycrappy

Oct. 2nd, 2006 @ 07:34 pm
There are some things you just aren't prepared to see.

Ugghh.

Sep. 28th, 2006 @ 04:42 pm
Dear William,
   Please don't scream out dirty things about Michael Knight so a nurse walks in and then thinks i did it. It's awkward.
Love,
Erik

Sep. 24th, 2006 @ 04:21 pm
A psychopath is defined as having no concern for the feelings of others and a complete disregard for any sense of social obligation. They seem egocentric and lacking insight and any sense of responsibility or consequence. Their emotions are thought to be superficial and shallow, if they exist at all. They are considered callous, manipulative and incapable of forming lasting relationships, let alone of any kind of love. It is thought that any emotions which the true psychopath exhibits are the fruits of watching and mimicking other people's emotions. They show poor impulse control and a low tolerance for frustration and aggression. They have no empathy, remorse, anxiety or guilt in relation to their behavior. In short, they truly are devoid of conscience.
Other entries
» (No Subject)
[Going to be MIA for the next two days. <3]
Sep. 21st, 2006 @ 09:07 pm
» (No Subject)
Everybody seems to be posting pictures of themselves lately. But i only have one picture that i will ever let anyone see. Ever. EVER. And you've all seen it.


Sep. 17th, 2006 @ 12:16 am
» (No Subject)

Dear world,
    Everything kinda sucks for everybody right now. We should all just have a popsicle and chill. Popsicles don't cause drama. Unless you take the one some one else wants. But there are always more popsicles, so that's solved pretty easy. Unless it's the very last kind in the box, in which case you can just buy another box. Or maybe you could get a box of the most popular flavour. But then all the kids who like the other flavours get screwed. So i guess you'd just have to get a variety. Or maybe ask before you go to the store, that way everybody could get what they want. Unless they change their mind. But really, that just isn't your fault. It's theirs. They should've said what they wanted in the first place. My point is, popsicles are awesome.
Love,
Erik


Sep. 16th, 2006 @ 07:19 pm
» It's easier when you write like you're somebody else
Perfect. It echoed in his mind. It was his reason for everything. Striving for perfection. Starving for salvation. But that never came. It was never good enough. He was never good enough. He wasn't good enough for his family. For Will. He would never be good enough for Will. For his friends. For anyone. Anything. But he tried. Oh Lord, he did try. It was so hard here. Hiding, purging, faking. He did anything he could. Everybody else seemed to have it so easy. They didn't have to deal with this. They didn't have to deal with her.
     Ana. The most radient thing his crazed eyes had ever seen. Her voice was the cruelest thing to ever take control of him. You'll never be good enough. Try harder. Cocaine makes you thin. Not small enough. Eating too much. Forty days. You can make forty days.
     She was right. She was always right. That sick intoxicating voice lingered in his ears long after she was gone. She was never there to begin with but she was always with him. Watching him. Laughing at him. Judging him. She played him like a puppet. He was his obsession, and he loved her to the bones. Bones he never saw quite clear enough. Broken easily. Bruised from chairs. Beds. Walls. Will. Those hurt the most. He thought they would never heal. But he never saw himself the same way again. They were always there. Somewhere under his skin. The purples, blues, and yellows never truely faded. Because he knew. A reminder much like the red bracelet that never left his wrist. It was a warning sign. Stay away from him ! He'll kill you like he kills himself ! You can share in his loathing. Maybe you can get him to stop writing in the third person.
Sep. 13th, 2006 @ 11:00 pm
» (No Subject)
I am not mean. Am i mean ? When have i ever been mean ? I am not mean. I don't know what you're talking about.
Sep. 12th, 2006 @ 10:19 pm
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