[x]

deviantART

 
About Me Member General Addict Trish J.Female/Australia Recent Activity Deviant for 1 Year
Not Subscribed
Statistics 197 Deviations
323 Comments
1,580 Pageviews

deviantID

I'll write you one more song;
Spell it out for you
To leave you where you're standing now.
You're running out of lies.
So, so much for the honesty,
Because after all, you know you've won.

Devious Info

  • Current Residence: http://www.fictionpress.com/~trishj
  • Interests: Reading, writing, drawing, thinking, public speaking, photography, parties, la la la...
  • Favourite band or musician: Depends on my mood.
  • Favourite genre of music: RockemoacousticscreamoGermanhiphop popdanceelectronicaR&Bindieclassical.
  • Favourite poet or writer: Too many to name.
  • Operating System: Windows XP.
  • MP3 player of choice: An iRiver E10.
  • Personal Quote: "You only live once, but if you do it properly, once is enough." (Mae West)
  • Tools of the Trade: Words, hands, hearts, and something by Kodak; occasionally something by Samsung.

Lampshade

Wed Jul 1, 2009, 7:41 PM
I'm currently marvelling at the surprising clarity that comes with twelve hours of sleep following a HUGE glass of disproportionate vodka to mango nectar. And you know what else? I'm giving up on him. Again. For the millionth time.

Don't worry about it, though; I'll come back to him. 'Cause I always do, with no rhyme nor reason. (And why the hell would I want rhyme anyway?) Well, I'm not surprised. Some wise man once said that "love and reason keep little company these days"... No, wait; it was an ass.

I can't manage to get my brain or my heart or my hands or my life to work properly. But it's funny I should say that, because honestly? My life's never been better. I'm getting the highest grades I could possibly get, I've got the most amazing friends in the world, and next year, high school is O-V-E-R. I'm young, I'm successful, I'm confident, I'm intelligent; my life is ready to begin, and I'm ready to welcome it with open arms.

So why do I sometimes pause while crossing a bridge - align my toes with the edge, peer over the railing at the cars flashing past below, catch tiny glances into the lives of people I'll never meet, grasp the metal with white knuckles - and imagine what it would be like to jump?

Would there be any grace to my death? Would I plummet into the windshield of an undeserving stranger? Would I turn, would I dive as if into a pool, would I hit the road face-first? What would break first: my skull or my ribcage?

And the question that keeps me awake at night, and the alcohol keeps at bay: what's stopping me?

  • Mood: Tired
  • Reading: Eats, Shoots and Leaves
  • Drinking: OH GOD, NO MORE!!!!

deviantART Notice

[x]

Comments


Thank you for the wonderful comments!!

--
"The difference between fiction and reality is that fiction has to make sense." (Tom Clancy)
:rose:

--
Kurwa. !

i każdy wie, że Polak.

Site Map