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Denial

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 21:22:51 -0700

and with everything you say
my mind warps it into something else
something its not
something it will never be
something that makes me think
you could possibly want me
something to give me hope
something to wish for
something to look forward to
something to hold onto
because i am forever incapable
of just letting go.

Frustrated.

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 23:38:22 -0700

It's even harder to deal with your pain, when you know those closest to you are constantly in worry over what you might do to yourself one day. I wish I could turn to those who offer me their support. I shut out the most important people in my life, to keep them from my own insanity. I don't know which is worse. Having them wondering what it is I am thinking, or to actually let them know what exactly is going on inside of my head. I feel so over dramatic. I feel ridiculous. I feel as though Im not entitled to be hurting this much. If suffering is optional, why am I choosing to torment myself? What is keeping me from moving forward and letting this go? I was once able to walk freely, and live my life. I now have anchors wrapped to my feet and they hold me in place. I tell myself when I go to sleep, that when I wake up i'll learn to disable the anchors and free myself. Everyday, I remain stuck in the same place and continue inflicting more and more pain on myself as I dwell on the painful thoughts I cling to. I'm annoyed with myself and my constant depression. I give up before I even start to try. I have no will to better myself in anyway. It's sick, and it's sad. To me anyways. I don't enjoy this, but yet can't find the fucking strength to make myself better. I don't know what I'm doing , or where I am headed. I'm a fucking mess and can't clean myself up.

pathetica dramatica

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 03:51:53 -0700

i can see her hurting
as the tears are burning
down her cheeks

she denies it, she's lying
sad eyes havent stopped crying
like this for weeks

how can anything hurt so bad
how could it hurt this much?

everything in her aches
her heart breaks
as he walks away

holding her chest
trying to catch a breath
to ask him to stay

"please,if i have to get on my knees, you have to believe me
i cant take it, and i wont make it, ill surely die if you leave me
im not sure if i will live"

"i loved you completely, way too deeply ,and i guess i cared too much
why wasnt i enough, not worth your love?
you dont want what i have to give"

how can anything hurt so bad
how could it hurt his much?

"i look pathetic
but i cant let this...go."

Giving a damn.

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 01:19:25 -0700

I want to erase you from my life� and leave not one memory of you imprinted into my� mind. I'm exhausted from pushing thoughts of you away as they are shot at me every second of the day. It's sick how much I think of you. I'm obsessed with entertaining the thought you might actually be able to bring yourself to care. I convince myself that I hate you and that I don't want or need you.
Well, I try to anyways. I fail miserably everytime. I waited for the moment I could be certain that you no longer cared for me. Only then would I be able to actually hate you for leaving me here, alone. Today that moment came. You looked at me while I fought back tears, holding them in just enough. I felt the pressure building as my eyes filled to the brink with tears, and I looked up at you
as the first one rolled down my face. You looked at me and the only thing you could offer me was
a smile with a slight hint of sympathy, or maybe it was pity. Then you told me you didn't know what
to say. that's what hurt the most. Years of freindship passed, and you had nothing to give to me.
After pouring my heart out for you, to understand that I couldn't bare the thought of losing you, you had nothing at all to say to me in return. I knew where I stood. I was no longer needed. I was no longer cared for. I thought once I finally knew, that I'd hate you. And I do. There's no more needing to convince myself of that. Convincing myself I don't want you around, or need you, I have a� feeling will take a little more time. At least you're content with just letting me go. I'd hate to know you lay awake at night, contemplating pills, or inflicting pain upon yourself in order to make the aching of your whole body quit. It's good to know each of your days is not miserable Its good to know you dont have trouble getting out of bed. It's good to know it doesn't hurt you to live. It's good to know you don't break down at the simple thought of me. It's good to know you don't give a fuck that you're killing me. As if I wasn't enough of a headcase before, you have completely broken me down. You have ruined me. You broke my trust, and my heart. The sick thing is, if you wanted to
ever come back to me, I'd take you in a heartbeat. I love you always, more than anything. And that, is why I hate you for what you've done to me.

Ray Lamontagne

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 00:30:00 -0700

Hear me out
Day follows day
Light turns to
clay in my hands

How to explain,
So pristine the pain
Kindness made
the cut so
clean

I still care for you

Hear me out
Wanted me to be
Less your lover
than a mirror

Can't you see
What you mean to me?
(even promises may bleed)

I still care for you

The hours grow
Heavy,
And hollow,
And cruel as a grave

Open Me
You'll find
Only bones
burned to glass.

I still care for you

.......

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 03:37:58 -0700

It's creeping back upon me, an itch i can not scratch. Pushed under,pressed beneath,confined to this place.
Where dark days and dark thoughts consume every possible chance of brighter days and brighter thoughts. I will live to spite the heavy clouds above me,paddling through the depths of rain poured on me. Fighting the urge to surrender myself and let this swallow me whole. Fighting a sickness that I am fearful will one day kill my heart completely. What is left of this heart, is not much. What is left, still belongs to me. What is left, is what keeps me dying to live. What is left will surely one day fall victim to this itch. Victim to a sickness. A sickness to surely one day kill me.

�

A sensitive subject matter

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 00:33:03 -0700

A Sensitve Subject Matter

Whenever they speak your name
whenever your name runs through my head
i fight back the tears and i choke them down
it's a sensitive subject matter

when i think about the time i've lost
when i think about how i'll never get a back
i use the strength i have left to clutch the pillow case to my face
as i let out the pain
it's a sensitive subject matter

when they ask what happened
when they ask how long it's been
my heart gives out a bit more
another breath of my soul empties out through my nose
as my lips pressed together keep cries from escaping
it's a sensitive subject matter

With offered ears and helping hands
extended shoulders for me to cry on
i avoid the pity, i turn away from conversation
it's just too much to say out loud
it's sensitive subject matter

I'm destroyed
and...it's a sensitive subject matter.

No.

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Thu, 07 May 2009 23:28:43 -0700

Sometimes it's all too much. It feels as though enduring one second longer might send me into a million tiny pieces. It feels as though I'm going to explode. My mind travels far deeper than I wish for it to. It insists on tagging me along for it's painful adventures to the dark places that I can't bare, or teach myself to accept. It's impossible to ignore it. I know I don't wish to die . I am thankful for every moment I am given another breath. Although, sometimes it seems as though maybe this place IS too much to bare. Maybe it dosen't matter. I could erase it all. Take everything, and give it up for silence. Give up everything, for nothing.� What do I have to lose? Once it's taken care of, I won't remember anything. I will not have memories, thoughts, or breath. No pain. No tears. No chance to fear the time when my mind decide to take me away, to the thoughts I fear. To these thoughts. To thoughts I'm terrifed of having. At one time, this was all I wanted. I was never quite selfish enough to carry out the wishes my mind had. I'm still not. I just don't understand what the point is. I'm so scared of the end, that my mind encourages me to bring it even closer.

This hurts.

Get this weight off my back.

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 21:21:58 -0700

Sometimes there is just nothing you can say. You just can't find words to explain it. Even if there was, it wouldn't make a bit of difference in what you were feeling. That's what hurts the most. Not the fact that you're hurting, but the fact there is nothing you or anyone else can do to make it any better. The problem lies in the inability to make a difference in how you feel. It hurts more when you know you're stuck. When you know you'll feel this way forever.

Hmmm

noreply@fubar.com (FINNY) — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 20:54:29 -0700

I hate that I write long blogs just to vent. Then delete them so nobody can read them.