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If only...

It was a good night... In the last two hours or so I was simply content... so content.

It's still not easy... in fact I am fairly certain it just makes everything more difficult and it makes the sting of incredible longing burn even more.

Love will be the death of me.

Oh, If only...


I'm fairly certain...

I don't know what to do. Everybody thinks I am being melodramatic but the reality is that I really do feel like I am dying. I lay awake for hours with the feeling that I am being punched in the stomach repeatedly. I constantly have that feeling of being strangled, like there are these invisible hands wrapping around my neck, cutting off my air supply.

I'd do anything... everything. I'd give up anything and everything to change this.

I'm fairly certain a broken heart can kill you.


 I'm dying. In addition to the mind-numbing pain of heartbreak, my stomach is killing me... it's begging for food but I have no appetite and I can't keep anything down anyway. Hilarious how this whole thing has made me so physically ill, isn't it? It's fucking ROLFTASTIC. I've had this off and on migraine and also random bouts of dry heaving. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't concentrate. I can't fucking do anything. I can't fucking function at all.

I've been out and about the last few nights, walking around alone in the darkness for hours at a time... all the while I find myself fantasizing about getting attacked by some psycho, some serial killer, and I don't fight back... I just let him kill me.

Nothing has EVER felt so terrible.

I don't think I will be able to go on much longer... I really don't.... And I'm not sure I really care anymore. It doesn't matter either way.
I haven't been able to get the images out of my head and I haven't been able to stop crying. I don't know how I am still alive... I had about 30 shots and then some (vodka and beam, straight... some in my apartment some...over a friend's house) in the span of about 2 hours on an empty stomach and a little cocktail of sleeping pills, pain killers and muscle relaxants... the aim with the pills wasn't to kill myself... well not entirely... I just don't want to feel anymore

I passed out on my bed 6am and woke up three hours later feeling completely normal... physically feeling great, not even the slightest bit hung over and the only pain I felt was THE GIANT GAPING HOLE IN MY CHEST FROM MY HEART BEING RIPPED OUT AND TORN APART BY A GOD DAMN MOTHERFUCKING VELOCIRAPTOR.

The next time I do this I'm just going to get a giant ass bottle of Skyy or something else cheap and down it all with no breaks in between shots/chugging then stumble up to the highest point of the Samoa bridge at like 3am... The bridge itself isn't high enough to kill me, I would just break some bones... but who says I have to hit the ground? I could just take some strong rope, about 15 feet or so and tie one end securely to the bridge and the other into a nice noose around my neck and just throw myself off. Instant, delicious neck snappage. The plan is flawless. If alcohol poisoning doesn't kill me then this will. At least I have a solid plan and can't be saved in the last minute. I don't know when this might occur but I'll be successful as long as I don't make any drunk text/calls/IMs/messages... rambling about irrelevant things like the health problems associated with consuming MSG in one's food to video games to what kinds of metal I like.

At least I'll go out doing something I really enjoy... drinking... possibly the last little joy I have left.


Here, let me make it easier for you....

SEE YA!!!!!

Maybe I should just...

I should just take all my moving/furniture savings and use it to go to India to get gastric bypass surgery and a few thousand more for some lipo as well (in a good facility). Then spend the next year working three jobs and never leaving my house for anything other than work so I can afford a new face.

I could save even more money if I got it done at some sketchy facility in Mexico even if it kills me. It would be worth not looking like me.

I would rather die then look the way that I do... and if I just happen to die while changing my appearance... well, then that's better than living looking like this.

People would resent me less....

Dream lol

Last night I dreamt that I made an agreement with a Warlock to perform sexual favours for him in exchange for his powerful staff.



20 pounds and 2 pant-sizes down since February 1st! Go me! Soon I will be at least somewhat socially acceptable.

Mmmm... Fuck

Want some, nao.



Friends only, bla, bla, bla. Comment to be added. Bla, bla, bla. You know the drill. Flashy banner to come. Bla, bla, bla. Choke on dick.


A Totally AwesomeCat

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August 2010