im sick of words. there meaningless when they mean something yet the meaningless seems to be broadcast like a public display of harassment. one slip of the tongue can send you spiralling down to the lowest place youve ever felt. its ironic telling somone how you would giv anyting for them, seems so meek compared to the verbalized drama givin by somone else. so im sick of words...in that note i wont be usiing them verbally ill keep my voice inmy head so it cant be misheard or mislead. ill keep my mind to itself so it cant be fucked with. maybe locking up all means of mental escape will keep this time bomb strapped to my chest. i hate when it goes off. leaving me in doubt.  the ink just another remindser of how fucked up and heartless i was. so fuck words. fuck talking, and once again go fuck yourself face in the fucking mirror

would a bullet in my brain finally let it stop thinking. staring into space that should be empty, seeing things to fucked up to imagine. where is that line between reality and ....whatever else there is.the eyes see what the mind tells them to,so does the mind control reality? while in the same  sense it distorts every fabricleft in realism. the drug induced rantings of an addict could merely be the stripping away of the shelter of the mind. the living breathing rust on the knife of this life. living is an oxymoron.such as dying is a verb. the act of ending all actions. death is a thought. sanity is an act. who wrote the rules of moralistics. who denied thought its freedom, limiting the exploration of the insane. keeping locked up all of us who truly know the worst in man. we cure all virus with a vaccine. what is our vaccine. what cures the virus of this infestation.the answer....we do. we are our own  cure. an anti-venom of the venom itself. as we live killing and destroying , time in turn kills us. i guess the fate of all life really is irony

there are 26 letters in the english alphabet, out of every combination imaginable only 1 is deadly.4 little fucking letters to make or break any heart. everyone has used them and been let down atleast once in there lifetime. how can 4 fucking letters...2 vowels and 2 constance, control the fate of someones entire fucking life.the difference between good and evil, alone and together, war and fucking peace. its not just a fucking word its a weapon, used to build empires and destroy beliefs.what is the word, the thorn on the rose of life.LOVE. the greatest gift and the sickest deciever.the word itself has lost all meaning. why is it called falling in love to begin with. becasue when you fall once getting back up doesnt seem worth  the reminder that the once warm sheets arecold again. the happy fucking feelings are reaplaced with a sick spike stabbing you through your fucking chest. til death do us part is no longer valid. no longer a meaningful phrase just something they make you say  to hope it has an effect like swearing on the bible. to have and to hold...only til they are sick of each other and give up....give up proving that there was no love just lust mixed with the search for love. when does the search become an obsession you cant control. when you throw yoursself at loves feet begging to fall.the fucking lie called eternal.....the saddest part of all ....is that every little tastre of the poison...every single drop...is worth it.....to have that feeling...even if its just for a night....fuck love...no...fuck you face in the fucking mirror

ATTENTION ATTENTION IM ADRESSING MY DEPRESSING STATE OF MENTAL CONFUSION, i think its time i found the cure to this twitch. COME ONE COME ALL BRING ALONG YOUR PAIN AND SADNESS WERE HAVING A BONFIRE TO BURN AWAY THE FEELINGS.
im tired of being tired of being sad of bieng hurt, im sick of being sick of being used and overworked, im done with being dealt with just to get me off my mind. im done with this depression for the very last time. IM THROUGH WITH BEING THROWN INTO THE SENTIMENTAL MIX,  IM FREE TO TELL MYSELF WHATEVER THOUGHTS I CAN COMMIT, THE TRUTH BEHIND THE AWFUL LIES FUELED BY LITANY , THE FATE OF LIFE./...IS IRONY

if you like me check yes, thats usually followed by 2 boxes one with a yes and one with a no obviously. depending on what you check it could mean either the end of something that never began or the beggining of something now shared between you and the writer of the letter. one single check mark can turn that pice of paper into either a heart or a bullet. my honest opinion is that in the case of your liking, crumple up the letter walk up to the persoin and have more cahones then they did and tell them to there face exactly what u feel.....or just checking yes will do the honors, if its no well then nomatter how u put it the person will be crushed....destroyed, made a fool , and other such things. If this be the case than theresnot much u can do about it, so dont feeel guilty. after all its not your fault tat u dont like them. you just dont mesh right...or maybe they smell wierd , either way people take the no end of the checklist way to seriously i mean so what there areplenty of fish n the sea and one of them is bound to have no other choice than be with you right? well the problem with there being a billion fish in the sea is trying to find that 1 in a billion that can last. that one person who can forgive your errors and put up with your bullshit.iv been through alot of fish and at one point even thought id found my very own....but this was just a game of catch and release i presume seeing as the fish ended up biting me so to speak and jumping back into the ocean. but the point is if you waste time thinking i wonder this or i wonder that then you may miss out on time with the person or even lose them altogether....so that being said to the world...if you like me check yes

its time to let out somethings iv kept hidden from the rest of the world, from up here in my tower i watch you, all of you destroying each other like a sick fucking game. the game being the lies and the motive , well there is no fucking motive, what motive do jealousy and hate need. answer none . the empty shallow hearts from those who who fucked over pour hatred into those they fuck, and i dont mean that as a sexual pun. sex is what started this , sex is what ended this, sex is what makes a man or destroys a life. the breif understanding of what it means to fuck, to instigate a sexual reference , what once was called making love is now a sport for the half hearted. a sport with no rules, no season , and the only judge is the fuck u might nver see again, what happens when sex loses its meaning , it becomes a monster. feeding off of false emotion and unchained lust. i use to make love , but like so many other i took it for granted and uncaged the beast of vulgarity. i let it consume me until there was nothing left but an empty heart and a head full of confusion. i the phantom now look from my tower at the reaction to my actions, watch as the people i once called a family tear apart the thin cloth of dependabilty i threw in there faces. tho i do not blame them , im the one at fault, i drained every ounce of patience and pity until there was nothing left but to hate. i corroded the walls of freindship, i tore down the house on stone and thrust my verbal expressions in the face of those found wanting, nothing can fix the sidewalk scars , made for a point i heard to late, nothing can fix the hearts i threw in the face of love,  at least nothing i can do.... i am no longer capable of knowing love , therefore i will no longer have the satisfaction of a false creation.....
-the phantom of the drama

behind my mask there is a face, this face belongs to me nomatter how much i can hate it. this face i keep hidden for reasons beyond physical attributes, flaws, and such. i hide this face because to let someone truly in to your sould they must be able to look into it, only one person has seen the suprisingly non violent nature of the dried blood stain i call my soul. like a shotgun shell on its end no point but to destroy , only this shell of mine, this mask can not contain the beast it hides. i sit in fear that the tamer of my beast returns, my odinesstic bieng.  but i do not fear her, i welcome her return, it is the pain of losing the reason behind the mask, the mind only i control. to be completly insane is to be completely free but to be free means to have lost everything. freedom bears the price of loneliness, so i sit here with my chains dragging chained to the very heart i gave away that put this face behind my mask. i wear it proudly for one day i will share this mask with my goddess and once again be able to look in the mirror.....and smile

the buzzing sound of a permanent descision, i lost my heart so i went and got a new one. you see the last one was hidden behind bone and flesh and blood, but no this one wouold be a display. put out so everyone could see that it is mine. made a timb bomb waiting, hoping to explode with all the emotional wreckage that is inside of it.tick the needle on the bone, a reminder that this is more than just a picture framed on skin, this is so much more than a visual greivance.from this day forth i wear my heart proudly on my chest, if it is to be hurt then it will be out for recognition. recognition of the fucked up things iv done, like the star on my hand , black as a reminder of the person i fucked up, faded as the feeling of regret, the worthless, pitiless, selfish feeling of regret. but who am i , WHO THE FUCK AM I to say what should and should not be admired. while some see the ink as a sign of defiance, or artistic nature, it is merely an attempt at retribution, redemption. i decorate my temple of god with all the truths behind all the shit i have to hide. for there are no sins that go unseen . though i may hide my thoughts and lock away my temptation, all is seen by the beast and the lamb.

the pinprick crisscross of an emotional plane crash,
need i say more, need i say another fucking word to lie to my insecurities,
need i send another shockwave of i love you but FUCK YOU through my stale veins,
no , no all i need is a fucking glass shard called realism to dig out the fucking lies buried so deep in my sockets i cant see the light. i cant see the bright at the end of my tunnel. but there is no darkness
no darkness is all too easy such as the suicidal shortcut so many took before. my way is riddled with empty hearted apologies and distant cries of apathy.
who can save me , who can pick me up off the fucking rock bottomless floor. pick up a shovel sweet sir because this ride just gets deeper. the mirror laughing at my face it knows the truth , it knows the hero is a sinner, the hero is the same fucking prick that put me in this self holocaustic state. it is the fucking prick in the mirror. the safe sadistic wannabe martyr. the blood stained ego with a suicide note written to satan himself.DEAR HELL , KEEP ME AWAKE, FOR WHEN I ARRIVE THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY. crumpled up inside my coat that fucking bullete called a note. the paper trigger folded up . click says the pen bang says the voice, the last thing i hear, I love you, the words that started everything, the only time i told the truth

Roget's II: The New Thesaurus 
   Main Entry:   love
   Part of Speech:   noun
   Definition:   The passionate affection and desire felt by lovers for each other.
   Synonyms: admire, adore, affection, amorosity, amorousness, amour, benevolence, caress, cherish, courtship, devotion, embrace, enamor, endearment, fancy, idolize, infatuation, like, passion, reverence, tenderness, torch song, veneration

THE ONLY PART THEY DONT RECALL IS THE FUCKING LIE IT TOLD US ALL, THE NEVERENDING AWFUL TRUTH, THE FUCKING GUN WE LOVE TO SHOOT,THE HATEFUL SPITE WE CANT IGNITE, NO MATTER HOW WRONG, NO MATTER HOW RIGHT, THE MIRROR SHOWS THE ONE AT FAULT, THAT BROUGHT THOSE FEELINGS TO A HALT,  THE FATEFUL FUCK , THE MATCH IT STRUCK, JUST BURNED THIS MOTHER FUCKER TO THE GROUND