twenty five. Different name, same meaning

"I haven't much I can give you in return. Only my heart and I promise not to turn."

Twenty four. old wounds

I used to be a pretty good writer. At least I thought I was alright, When I was really down on myself, and well versed in the arts of self loathing and deprecation I would write endlessly. I would never stop, I would take the time to notate every single nuance and feeling that would pass through my mind but never have the courage to exit my mouth. I would re crate entire scenes in my mind and translate it to the screen. There was a period of time where I thought I could write short stories in my livejournal and convince myself that they were semi- palatable. They were okay but they had no consistency. This is one of the only excerpts from that series that I liked writing and found to be cohesive So I thought I would put it here:

Sep. 9th, 2007 | 02:01 am

He returned home briefly,
in the dead of night when the house was asleep.
Sitting quietly on the porch in his usual spot,
he softly whispered to himself.
"I know I'm unlovable,
you don't have to tell me."
He didn't feel a need to run anymore,
nor did he get the slightest urge to escape.
He just wanted to hide,
for now hiding from everything that troubled him was the best solution.
That is of course until he convinced himself of an even better one,
his mood usually determined the length of time.
Knowing where she always kept a spare key,
for he had disposed of his some time ago.
He let himself in,
it made it easier because she always left the porch light on.
Closing the door behind him he put his small pack down,
message received loud and clear.

This time last year was the shittiest point in my early twenties and some days I'm still reeling from the effects of my self loathing, Isolation, and shitty attitude. I still feel those feelings, and sometimes I don't think I'll ever find a solution. I also still don't know if it's good or detrimental. It's something I suppose I'll be handling for the rest of my days.

Twenty three. safety net

I have been inside for far too many nights, and if I don't leave the house soon I'm afraid I never will. My safety net, my band, my best friends are out doing fun things with each other. I'm the one that is never called because I have work and they figure I'll be too tired. I still wish I would have the option to say no or yes.

My ability to feel young and care free is dwindling with each minute and I just feel that in order for me to keep what shed of mental stability I have left  I need to hang out with them on some kind of daily basis.  I feel like I'm losing touch, and turning into something obsolete as far as friendship goes. Someone they don't need or want around and I don't want to become anything that closely resembles that description.

If that happens then I have nothing, and although I may act like like I want nothing it's simply not true. I want and need that safety net they so excellently provide for me and my stupid brain

twenty two. rack em up rack em up

I will never get tired of this movie