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17 July 2006 @ 09:56 am

Breaking heart. Stoned. Primative Cuts.

My therapist says I'm going to either have an emo downslide or relapse. I refuse to go back on medication and he says in this most unorthodox manner if I prefer to inject myself with my medication. If it would make me feel better.It was almost as if he was mocking me. Sympathetically he says he can't imagine how hard it must be to be to be me.

Domanique. ex bestfriend.heart wounder. = scrapped attempt at friendship.or.boredom with the idea.

Gabby.cousin. = forever everything.irreplacable.

Rene for the third time cancelled out on me. Disappointment breeds distance, contempt and reclusion while all the time loving someone else not you. Wot you give me is stability and I have neither the heart nor patience to say I do not love you, we cannot be, but I like your want.

Met a really beautiful girl with the most charming personality that I think I might actually like this time and that will hopefully not stalk me like the last.

Friday night, one week after I cut all my hair off, I went clubbing. Got stoned, high, nearly choked a teenager with her halter top strings {if you must know I didn't like her, she found out, kicked me and I choked her-- fucking little bitches}, saw the one person I'm slowly, gracefully falling in love with - Shad. It's been a slow and hestitant feeling, getting over Romeo is not something I want because then I feel like I'd be empty. There are so many things wrong enough already with me and I want him to live forever in my memory because he keeps me alive in some sad but beautifully painful way.

When the night was ending and I realised I was two days away from his death anniversary I started to cry. I went outside to sit on the club steps and Shad followed me or rather he was leaving. I realised then and there that nowadays all that I cry for is Romeo. He looked at me sitting there on the stairs with the most sorry look in his eyes. Though I might eventually fall in love with him it seems unfair to put him through the torment inside me. Love comes slowly, and painfully trickling down my broken heart but I feel it everyday when I think about him. He doesn't remind me of Romeo, he's a whole other beautiful being, submersed in indivuality even I cannot fanthom. Truth is we use to talk once, he liked me an awful lot before Romeo died but I already had all I'd wanted. He went away and I forgot him. Now he's been back almost a year and it's only been recently since he's begun meaning something to me. Maybe I'm already in love, and there are moments I fight to prevent this rush inside me. I want to be alone yet somedays I want to be alone with him. But when I sleep Romeo's face haunts me and I'm crying in my sleep begging him to come back and complete me. We all sometimes wish we could go back to the start because reality's fuckups caused by some long time ago event makes us slowly die inside, waste away wot could be the best years of our life just wanting to fix it.

So it's Monday and I'm eagerly looking forward to my bed this evening. I'm gingerly waiting for friday's chemical blast.

Two years today Romeo pulled the trigger. Two years at noon today I was screaming. Two years tommorow begins my insomia and nightmares. My friends back home are going to his graveside later to lay flowers and pray though we must face reality there is no heaven for damned souls. Everyone is sympathizing. At 11 home time I will be calling his little sister. It's been two years since I've spoken to his mother. I want to tell her I'm sorry I wish I'd known, please forgive me but then nothing could be said to heal her heart. I wasn't there when he pulled the trigger, I never saw him bleed to death, I wasn't the first to read his note, I wasn't the last one to hold him, I wasn't the one to give birth to such beauty, she was. She use to console herself with the idea he was murdered, I wish I could have done the same. Denial though is sometimes the only way of coping. She burned all our pictures and tapes. That hurt me so badly but I had to try to understand why. One year later, I did the same. It was my way of coping by telling myself he didn't exist and every day, every year was just one bad nightmare. I thought I'd forget wot he'd looked like and I almost forgot but like a bad but beautiful memory coming swiftly he came to me even more clearly in my dreams. Screaming was all I could do because then I had nothing, no memories just a few small notes. And friends gave you their memories to make you feel like you've not lost it all but you know you have. And friends and their lovers will tak about you in their bedtime tales and hold unto each other so tightly hoping that they share enough love and spend enough time so that the other is never lost. Your tradegy has become their lesson.But on the surface and further down you hope they've all learned that suicide hurts everyone so badly and life can be one bad rollercoaster ride after the next and it gets harder to see clearly the beautiful things.

Two and a half more hours to bed time.

Pills neatly stashed in my purse.

No need for needles tonight.

Just need for sleep.
26 June 2006 @ 08:48 am
Due to my increased and unwanted popularity over the past few years and the upsurge of interest in my open blog which has lead to negative addiction and behaviour by some, I've had to stifle somethings that have been happening in my life. This was never my intention because I've always felt that the purpose of having a blog, whether it was open or not, was to spill my guts and tell the truth. It was never about anyone, it was just about me and sometimes how others have affected or inflicted me. After some thought I have decided to use MascaraJunkie83 as the place to put away all my discrepencies and do everything according to my discretion.There will be no secret untold in this blog.I will still keep AddictedBrokenDoll open however. I have also opened TwstedTransistor where you can find headers of almost any size and type for your LJ or website. I'll be there quite often as well.

I must forewarn though that this blog will contain things of an adult nature and graphic thoughts and images that are not for the weak in stomachs or hearts.DO NOT JUST FRIEND BLOG. Leave a comment and I will get back to you. Even though a link to this page is on all my other pages it does not mean that I want you reading my blog. I love meeting new, open minded people so it's okay, I will add you.

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