May all your days turn to night,

And all your nights burn to dust.

I know I’m different from everyone else. I’m still trying to figure out why. But I know, for sure, that I am.

Please don’t tell me what I fucking think, because I can assure you, you’re dead wrong.

I feel weary and alone…

(Source: lovequotesrus, via crazed-delusion)

Most of the time, I like how people used to be, more than how they are now.

(Source: little-blackbook, via somethingforkatee)

I wish Prue were here right now, doing exactly this, with me, and I didn’t have any tests, or assignments due soon…

(Source: villere, via ranewenn)

(via cavum)

I fucking hate her.

I can feel it coursing through my veins.

I want to get fucked up, but I fucking can’t because of these fucking tests and it all makes me fucking mad.

I should text her. But I fucking shouldn’t.

FUCK.

THERE IS NOTHING I CAN FUCKING DO.

All I can think about is her fucking some random-assed black guy. I can’t fucking get that image out of my head.

Fuck you.

I had a dream last night that I was imprisoned for something. I’m not sure what. But I was serving a sentence of three years or so.

And at some point, I managed to break out, and I robbed a bank on my way, and then escaped.

And I found myself in a field, with all the cash I had just stolen, and all I could think about was turning myself back in, and taking the money back, so that I could serve the regular three year sentence, and get out quickly, and marry Prue.

Which goes to show the problems that were in my head before I went to bed.

I’m not working as much at the moment, and yet I am spending abhorrently, hence, I am a little strapped for cash.

I still have feelings for Prue.

And I can’t fucking deal with her telling me that she is out there fucking other guys. I just fucking can’t.

I’m not Juno.

Fuck you.

I am currently sitting at my computer. It is quite late. 11:16 in fact. I should be asleep. I told myself that I would start going to sleep at eleven o’clock every night. I am tired, and very confused. And sad. And lonely. I am all of these things.

I went around to Prue’s place tonight. She is my ex-girlfriend. We dated for a long time, and we are best friends. She called me up last week. We don’t talk very much any more. We are trying not to, at least. She called me because she hates how she can’t talk to any one else as comfortably as me. I know how she feels. I can’t talk to any one else as comfortably as I talk to her, either. This is why we are still best friends, even though we don’t talk very much any more.

It made me sad talking to her about this, and we talked about times when we were together, and it made me miss the times when we were together. I wasn’t thinking about this before she called, but then reminded me, and made me realise how lonely I am.

I don’t like going out very much, I don’t think. I don’t hate it. I even enjoy it sometimes. But if it were up to me, I would rather stay at home with someone I am comfortable with, and have a fun time. I know that I’m comfortable with someone when I can have a fun time at home with just them.

I love having lazy days with Prue. We would wake up, have morning sex, watch Saturday Disney, have some more morning sex, lie in bed and play games. Have a long, hot shower together, and flirt with each other, and then maybe even have some more morning sex. Make pancakes, and eat them in bed to a movie. These were the sort of fun times we had.

Erica and I on the other hand, would have nights in. I remember tickling her until she begged me to stop, on the couch at her mum’s house, while we were watching The Hitch-hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I remember wearing my night-vision goggles at home, in my bedroom at my parents house, when they were still together, and I would make funny faces for her, and we watched Star Trek.

I’m too tired to be angry.

Prue makes me sad, and I don’t want to be with her. 

No one knows what they want.

I want to be with Prue. But I don’t. And she wants to be with me, but she doesn’t.

I sit in her house, and I joke about how cute the Koalas are, in a silly voice, like I loved to do with Erica, and they don’t understand at all.

But I sit here, by myself, and think about how much I just want to cuddle her, and want her to cuddle me right now.

Being with Prue makes me feel like I’m holding myself back, I think.

I don’t fucking want to know about the people you fuck. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. Fuck you.

Erica really was the most incredible person.

She just wants to stay at home, and chill with just her and her boyfriend.

Fucking Scout.

This post isn’t linking very well, or making a lot of sense.

Lets start again, in The Perks of Being a Wallflower, mode.