do you still have a heart left, in that cave you call a chest?

at best, a new blog symbolises a new beginning.

alexithymia. i am in love with that word.

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if my self-destruction brings misery to you, i would gladly do so. don't call me stupid, but watching you hurt makes me happy. at least you got a taste of your own medicine.

you can never hurt me more than i hurt myself, remember that, you fucking moron. so don't bother trying.

don't lie to me and tell me you understand what i'm going through, because it's not true. what you're feeling is not empathy, it's sympathy. you are not me, and be glad you're not. after all, i am despicable, detestable, revolting, ugly, fat and dumb (ha ha, so much for high self-esteem).

everyone around you is a hypocrite. watch closely, and you might spot a two-faced snake. i am a hypocrite. and so are you.


i can't change my layout, and frankly, i don't give a shit because my blog's dead anyway.

i wish i could be a cold hearted bitch, then i wouldn't give a flying fuck about you or your stupid lies. or maybe i could step out in front of a speeding car, and watch myself catapult 20metres into the air, and fall back down onto earth as gracefully as an elephant in a tutu.

i would be, then, cold and stiff as a corpse.

or maybe i can be metallic, and cold. a robot designed to terminate all evil human life, i'll shoot you with my laser beam, and make your hair explode and crackle, until your skin turns black, and you smell the scent of burning flesh.

i wish you would die. (i am evil for saying this)

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i'm spiralling downwards now.

but hey, they always say, the only way to go when you hit rock bottom is up.

i can't wait to hit rock bottom, then.