i am a 2 year old addict.
i take pictures with my eyes.
my beating muscle is co-owned.
and if found,do call.

the net is back in business.

argh.i feel suffocated.let me breathe.funny how i keep telling them to breathe but my air pocket is so limited.i dont know what's come over.

maybe..

it's that constant blame
it's those piercing words
it's my wandering emotions
it's that im home alot
it's money
it's that i think/feel too much
it's cause im shy
it's cause i like to shut up
it's cause hormones are taking over
it's just cause.

and therefore..

i want a baseball bat to whack and trash
i want a punching bag to rip
i want a loaded gun to just fire
i want these walls to talk
i want those souls to not worry
i want this mind to be at ease
i want this heart to keep beating
i dont want these eyes to well.

hang me on the ceiling and punch,why dont you?
that'll save me from your words,your raised voice.you dont know do you?you dont have a clue.oh mum.you dont.i wished you knew.and if ever you're keeping something,i wished you'd say it.dont give me tough love,im not used to it.

StarX
thank you.i cant say enough.i hope your way's going well.you hot chick you.

oh God.please listen and tell me what's wrong.

before these veins pop;