(via papertissue)
my best side was your worst invention.
November 8, 2009
November 7, 2009
6:09 pm
I manage to fuck up everything, it’s a talent of mine. I’m proud of it. Forget writer. I’m going to become a professional incarnation of Loki, destroying everything I can. My mother makes another trite suggestion, hates her job, hates the way her husband comes home too late and about five hundred other things. I roll my eyes and say fuck once or twice, mortally wound her. Something about not wanting her cookies and other crap and how could she please just give me the money so I can do it my self. She looks at me, glass coffee pot in hand and asks me to please leave the room before she throws something at me. I hear her blubbering to my father over the phone, I sigh, I manage to fuck up everything, it’s a talent of mine.
5:54 pm
So this is me now, I’ve taken away all the things I thought would impress you. I stopped trying to be her, I stopped trying to fit in with your friends, I just stopped. Sometimes not being over you is just too much work, but more than sometimes I really can’t help it. But I can’t try anymore, it’s not worth it, I wrote you one last song, and it will be the last one.
This is me now, I’ve stopped trying to wash the paint from under my finger nails, I don’t care if you don’t like it. I like it. I like me, and I don’t want you to anymore.
