So. I went to knife party on Saturday with some of my guy friends I’ve gone to school with since grade 9. They have been to the Guv a lot, and know pretty much everyone there. I also just got lectured and talked down to by someone that smokes weed and dabs everyday all day on the dangers of doing drugs. What a joke. So what if I did 5 caps of m… I’ve never greened out before or been to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.. oh wait.. You have! I had a bad trip and saw some scary shit for a little bit. But you know what? The rest of my night was the best fucking night I’ve had all summer. Guess what.. Jamie and I danced and made out the entire night until the sun rose to my favourite DJ’s on the planet and it felt fucking amazing. If i did that every weekend.. then that would be a problem. But I don’t.. so stop treating me like some goddamn charity case when you were the reason I started doing serious drugs in the first place since I was so fucking anxious and depressed all the time from the shit storm you decided to continue for months and months and months. So you know what? I finally start to feel a little better and of course your “let’s fuck with Taylor” radar senses that and decides to message me again and turn it in to a fight. Bye. Seriously though. Go be friends with Eva you two are clearly soooo alike and anti-drugs.. Ha. You act so fucking righteous when your hidden agenda just consists of fucking with me.
I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is. When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I’d been living, they asked me why - but there’s no use in talking to people who have home. They have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people - for home to be wherever you lay your head. I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean… And if I said I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying. Because I was born to be the other woman. Who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone. Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.
Will you still love me when I’ve got nothing but my aching soul?
Jun 2May 27
There is beauty in everything, even sadness.
I know you hacked my Facebook on Sunday. If you wanted to know how I was doing you could’ve just asked.
I have my first session with my new shrink tonight.. Ha. The irony of it all. Maybe she can answer why I’m so fucked up… Because the sleeping pills aren’t working and the anti-depressants don’t start till tomorrow.. Since when did we start believing Prozac was the key to happiness. That a little white pill can stop the chaos inside our heads and silence our screaming thoughts. My emotions are like the little chip you get when painting a new room. They go from grey.. average normal grey, to piercing white, and all the way back down to blue. Deep dark blue. I want the teeter totter of emotions to stop because its giving me motion sickness.
Where’s your something? You said you had something.. Which is why you didn’t want mine.