Jan 01 2015, 08:42 PM

Not that anyone here cares and with that this is my last journal entry I'm leaving and not coming back I've decided to take my life buy the time any of you read this I will be dead and a decomposing corpse rotting away it's unfair of me to blame you but I'm tired of chasing shadows of myself we can run but never from us I'm sorry I can't say I know you the fact of it is how much I cared enough to write this garbage I hate you and you hate me Im a fuck up I'm heading for the great unknown and as I began life I will end lifeless and screaming alone I hate you I'm death and life is a whore a slave to itself here I am with a gun to my head goodbye !

Dec 11 2014, 02:58 PM

The nobodies Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty: that, one magical day, good luck will suddenly rain down on them – will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn't rain down, yesterday, today, tomorrow or ever. Good luck doesn't even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day on their right foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms. The nobodies: nobody’s children, owners of nothing. The nobodies: the no-ones, the nobodies, running like rabbits, dying through life, screwed every which way. Who are not, but could be. Who don’t speak languages, but dialects. Who don’t have religions, but superstitions. Who don’t create art, but handicrafts. Who don’t have culture, but folklore. Who are not human beings, but human resources. Who do not have faces, but arms. Who do not have names, but numbers. Who do not appear in the history of the world, but in the crime reports of the local paper. The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them."

Dec 06 2014, 07:24 PM

when days don't seem to change and we look for something in our shallow lives we realise we are united in our pain as being the inevitable storm of lives flashing befor our lives To cut to live to die or too feel alive a lesson i learnt a long time ago no matter how much we want to do we so desperately cling to life lying to ourselves that maybe things will get better but truth is not even the omniscient death can end our plight though our pain will follow us to the grave