missed chances never hurt
they just can't be forgotten
they just violate your imagination with all those countless couldhavebeens and whatifs in an endless mental torture
and you know that the responsibility for having chosen being irresponsible is on you.

sociophobia's worse than the deepest depression
you may very well seem to be alright, probably even *comparatively* high, but when it comes to playing_social_roles... you just fail
not at once, you know
the energy of life seems to gradually die away and you hasten back to your lonely, cosy and secure ivory tower of perverted mind
i was never alive enough.

sometimes i let my emotions go and do just plain_stupid_things
and afterwards i despise myself for all the shit i've done
emotions are evil
another problem is the fact that i can't belong neither anywhere nor to anyone
relations almost always begin in the most nice way, and then something happens and i'm tired and sulky and bored and all the shit you can imagine...
i'm such a stupid masochistic little bitch with a carefully cultivated inferiority complex x(

i'd like to wake up on a desert oceanshore full of black pebble near the cold waters of ancient ocean under our extinguished star.

my lower lip is split though i can't remember biting on it t o o hard. anyway, it doesn't really hurt.
actually there are many things i can't remember doing which nevertheless hurt me in a more than real way.

people whom i don't give a flying fuck about seem to care.
people i need are just like me.
so they don't give a flying fuck about me.
do i just s e e m to care?

there's something in the air tonight that gets into my heart to warm it from the inside.
that couple of the softest touches in my dim dreams still keep me alive in this world of blurred reality.
why can't we stop time? i guess for that same reason we can't turn it back...

watching tv ended up being impossible to stand anymore. but i still don't need anyone. i'm just reluctant to tell someone what's wrong with me. besides the fact it's a too long story to tell, i'm afraid i'll be misunderstood, as usual. though i'm quite used to be misunderstood, it's something you eventually become tired of.

when real shit happens to me i prefer keeping it to myself. if someone knew me really well they would become concerned only when i'm unnaturally silent and*seemingly*very calm.

i'm not sorry for anything i've done in my life. what's the use of being sorry for things one can't change? if someone explains me this i'll probably think of what_could_have_been_if...
otherwise it's just some unpleasant waste of time.

i'm not the type of making scenes. i can only say some stupid words. it happens when i'm sleepy (especially after some soporific stuff) and the only thing i wanna tell the world is "leave_me_be". and if the world wouldn't, sadly an emotional overflow may occur.

i am a freakin web addict. even the locations of my dreams have an url.

we ALL are/will be sooner or later brainwashed in this or that way.
the choice is either to accept it voluntary - which allows us to choose our own brainwashing content, according to our own taste - or to be made to accept ideas which hardly have anything in common with our genuine preferences.

routine is the Savior.
i run away from my demons all day long presenting the world quite an example of a mad workaholic to find myself finally caught by those evil spirits in the “safety” of my own bed late at night.

we hate this world too much to love each other.

i don't want anyone to think they're cleverer or stronger than me. i am the one who always gives good advice. i'm not the one to ask "please talk to me, i need your support". people always need my support - i never do.
so i just continue uploading my soul to da internetz.

be bold enough to have your own opinion
be wise enough to keep it to yourself.

sometimes it's nice to make plans or promises the fulfillment of which seems - and is - not really neccessary.
it creates a pleasant illusion of freedom when you break such promises or neglect the plans.

i need to try hard and become a psychotherapist for myself since i have no money for a real one and i have no friends either so i can't get this type of help for free and my mother doesn't count of course she's got enough of me by now so i'll better keep away from her.
if you're reading this and not feeling the same - rejoice, for you're quite a happy person but remember shit may be going on behind your wall or next door or in the soul of someone who you think is close to you and it will keep going on silently till something really bad finally happens so you better go and talk to the ones you share your home with just ask them what's up and tell them it's ok just say it and smile for you can really save a life this way. trust me i know what i'm saying. if you at least slightly care for someone just talk to them sometimes it's easy for you but it can make way easier to breath for them.

i don't sound too smart talking to people i neither want nor need talking too. and i don't think that's very sad.

i'm not thin enough but still i wanna just eat shitloads of junk food and everyone to fuck off.
i feel so stupid and tired but still i'm supposed to go out and drink and socialize in the evening.
all i want is to fall through the screen like through the fucking looking-glass into one of those trippy winamp visualizations and stay there as some shitty twitchy bunch of pixels. is it that ambitious?

faith in miracles ends with a rape after party -
humans like to mix glitter and dirt
if you're hollow and drunk, there's no need to look slutty -
your eyes read "i don't mind to be hurt"
don't be scared of dirt - only dirt purifies
like coal filter in your cigarette
those will never get wise and therefore - high
who had never felt filthy and dead.

i learned perfectly well how to express what i mean not too explicitly though clear enough for people i'm interested in to understand.
i learned how to smooth sharp edges and nevertheless remain myself.
so those who can't accept me "as is" are just moving on without a word.
you know, i just hate arguing.