you loved me yesterday; by starfaded

Summary of the last 4 months

I still think about her up to this day. It's different now, though, because of something I found out.

Her mother was important to her. A week before her birthday the year after we broke up, she had called me. She was crying and told me her mom had died. I told her if there was anything I could do, to just call me. She never called. I wasn't there for her. And for the past 2 years, I had beat myself up for letting her go through it by herself.

I thought about her every day. I cried myself to sleep for months at a time. Drugs only made it so much worse, and I'd do anything to try and cut the guilt off of me. I couldn't stand it. It was torture.

2 years almost to the day, I asked my friend how she took her mom dying. He replied her mom was alive and well and that he had seen her mom less than a month ago, that she was able to walk and talk and eat and do things that dead people aren't allowed to do.

Ever since then, my life has changed. I see her for who she is. I knew I knew her. But that lie broke that quintessential image. How demented does someone have to be to lie about something that means so fucking much to them? To lie to someone they say means everyfuckingthing to them? She was a good liar. The greatest.

And it's situations like that that make me not want to get out of bed. Life is so strifling. At times it breaks joy into pieces and cuts you with them. But other times, everything is okay. A bunch of beers with some close friends, a lotta laughs, and having to get up for class utterly dehydrated (when it only gets worse because the parking at school is enough to make you wanna get hammered again) forgetting to shower and having your stomache growl the entire duration of class as your brain is too hungover to comprehend what the professor is talking about. And then having to walk through the campus, distraught at having homework when all you know you're gonna do is drink, laugh, and be merry as much as you can because life is short.

I'm the only one at the house without a girlfriend. It sucks being there in the room with 2 pairs of couples and one roommate on the phone with a huge grin on her face. I want to smile, too. I want someone to talk to when there's nobody else. I want to feel special. I want to know there's someone out there waiting for me, but knowing that would be total bullshit. It's just fucked up that I can't just meet someone tomorrow and be ridiculously compatible with them.

Ugh. I'm tired of being single. It's annoying.

  • Current Music
    Honeysuckle; Stoopid
love; by starfaded

Well, well, well

Guess who's back? =)

It's been 3 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days since my last hit of dope. I feel good. My brain's not what it used to be, but it's alright. I'm starting college at Cal-State Bakersfield on September 10th, and I'm moving to Bakersfield this Tuesday with 5 roommates. We'll probably get on each others' nerves, but at least our house is fucking HUGE. And I mean HUUUUGE. =) 3 of us are musicians, including Isis, Josh, and me. Josh is the only straight one out of all 6 of us, LOL, so that'll be interesting.

I stopped writing when I quit. I don't know what happened, I guess I didn't have anything else to write about. I'll be writing again soon though, since I have 2 english classes this quarter. Fuck. They put me in the Hawk Honors program too, damn wankers.

fivebyfive88 has stopped updating [<^> (0.o)] and I'm unsure if anyone would still read this after the long hiatus, but I hope you're doing well.

love; by starfaded

I'm an angel burning out

Fuck. I'm not really doing too well. Things have gotten worse and my outlook in life has become muddier and less certain. If I could look at me from another's perspective, I wouldn't know whether to laugh or cry because it's a joke. A sad fucking joke.

I think I'm starting to go a little insane living how I am. The days slip past my grasp and I can't fucking get a grip on ANYTHING. I've fucking lost everything. I've lost myself. I always hear constant and unclear naggings from some place in my head. And the cruel thing is that I'm so disallusioned and untrusting I don't know whether it's real people playing a sad game or if it's just crazy little me.

I really need to get out more.

  • Current Music
    Epperley; Shy
runaway train [never coming back]

Who I am and why.

I'm not like anyone I know. I'm abstract - more empathetic and trusting than the people here. So that's why I more often than not sulk into bed each night, just wishing I could disappear into a place where I'd want to exist. I don't feel like I could ever be happy where I am.

I am a meth addict. This addiction is killing me, but I don't want to die. I want to live and accept and attempt to do all the wishes and dreams that have filled my imagination since I was a small child, neglected and left alone. I have so many aspirations, you see, and a mind that speedily races to fill in holes of everyday problems such as helping my mother out, keeping my brother calm, when I'll get around going to college, not being there to see my goddaughter grow up, running into pigs, coming up with money, getting dope, hustling (better known as stealing/pawning/conning) other tweakers for nickels/dimes/whateverIcanaffordtoget, and how fucked up I'll be later in life knowing how fucked up I am now.

Just to clear things up, I'm not the type of addict that fucks dealers for a hit, I still have more than enough sense to keep myself from getting that deep into drugs. I still and will probably always have my lovably enormous yet sensitive ego with a mountain of pride and morals on top of that. To put things into perspective, I don't desperately chase every slight opportunity to feed my addiction down nor do I trade my pride for a day of euphoric ignorance. When I have enough spare money (which is usually everyday) I go out, get a dime, and smoke it all at once. I don't trade any of my belongings, I just lose out on cash that I could've spent elsewhere or saved.

Looking back, I have since forgotten why I like this drug. It's done nothing but peck away at me, mentally and physically. My self-confidence has withered, and my body is looking more and more sullen as the days sink by. I hallucinate (it used to be much worse up until a couple of weeks ago. I would see shadows moving that would take on human shapes on the walls, through the windows, and sometimes 'people' would appear in the middle of rooms I would be in 'causing uncontrollable panic in me and I would bury myself in blankets at the corner of my room, wrapping my arms around my legs and sobbing desperately for the stalkers-that-were-never-there to go away and I'd shut my eyes as tight as I could hoping that if I couldn't 'see' them, they'd leave me be. There have been instances where I thought they had killed me but I don't wanna expand on that) after binging for sleepless days on end, thinking in my paranoid state of mind that the world is against me; 6,500,000,000 people against 1 of me. It's frightening because my mind can carry that ratio and expand on it, making it seem like the human populace throws misfortune and bad luck at me so that one day I will give up and fail; and in reality, all of life's lessons are tragic and coincidental and are shared by almost everyone of every shape, colour, class, race, and religion. Loss is inevitable and must be taken into consideration - nothing (save for love and hope) lasts forever. I've learned to appreciate my present companions but also despise them because I see all their faults in all the events where I've mistrusted them. They lie and cheat and try and save face but sometimes I do the same, so in turn I let all the wrong things that don't really matter slip away and I remain tied to them and their all-important companionship.

In my head and in my heart, I am alone. I cannot describe the loneliness that I feel because all of my emotions have numbed into slight sensations. I live life the same way every single day, sometimes moving forward into a better future, and other times I find myself laying wasted and mentally beaten dangling over the side of a couch or my bed. I feel like a zombie most of the time, except I'm aware and able to understand consequences such as driving straight into the back end of a traffic jam simply because for a crucial second, I wanted out; out of these problems and the hurt of people who judge, out of reach of my mom's hopes to be someone big and important, out of total responsibility of my brother when he gets older, out of connections with any and every little object, idea, or individual that have already or will one day make me break down and cry because I just couldn't handle all of the combined weights at once because I am weak when I'm on my own.

Ironically, what may cause my death is presently keeping me alive. Whenever I lose hope in myself, I drown my spirits in a chemical that chases all thoughts of doom away. I live for the moment and I momentarily forget everything else because when I am 'high', nothing else matters except for the fact that I'm alive and able to do all the things that I love doing (play guitar, cruise, draw, write [every few months or so], and sing) and for a couple hours of chemically-induced contentment I get a little closer to rock bottom but am able to keep struggling on. It's a strange price to pay - I can't live without it and I'll die if I keep abusing it.

If I leave town, my brother will be left alone (mom is a fieldworker and it's physically draining) and I can't just leave them like that. I could get clean if I leave but I can't do to him what was done to me as a child. I can't hurt him like that. Nor could I leave my mom because she's at the point where she might have to stop working the fields due to her worsening arthritis and above all, she came to this forsakened country so I could rise above and provide for when the time comes that she can't. And I accept that. I'll take care of them both no matter what.

I think I've solved all the basics that I'll have to work with for the next decade or so. I cannot see any farther in my future, and I've no reason to. The past year has been spent dwelling and trying to solve what went wrong in the past while things were falling apart in the present. Right now, I'm in pieces but it will get better. I know I have it in me the will to stop my addiction for reasons of necessity and the need to move on. Naturally competitive, I cringe at how behind I've gotten compared to my old high school friends and I'm aching to break free and excel in every way that I'm able to...


Fuck. I wrote a lot. I'll probably wake up tomorrow, read this post, and wonder how burnt/stuck I must've been to type up all of that crap. ;) Nah, but honestly, I mean every word of this post - it's all coming from thoughts I've discovered and ideas that I've put together along the dangerous path that I'm currently on. I don't know if I mean anything to whoever's reading this, I just really hope that you won't judge me from the first couple of paragraphs and automatically assume I'm one of those stereotypical junkies that wastes life away and dies a nobody, because I'm not and I won't. I dream just like you dream and I hurt just like you hurt. Thoughts and conclusions are reached/solved differently in each individual's mind, but emotions are universal (though I'm unsure about UFOs =S)l Hope can save lives but when it's lost, everything can be lost. When misfortune is accepted and dealt with at a young age, it's hard not to stay bitter; but the understanding of why tragedy and loss happens comes sooner than in a less dismal circumstance and acceptance is usually more easily attainable. But I've learned through many one-on-one conversations and rants that sometimes there are wounds that just never heal. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

Crap. I'm really out of it. Good luck with reading this Season-7-Xander-Sized entry.


ps. I found it humorous in wishing you luck at the end of the long structured wordvomit.
  • Current Mood
    in need of nicotine
you loved me yesterday; by starfaded

There's nothing I can say that'd be worth it for her to hear // Her confirmation

Fuck. Me. I guess that's what I get for having to need to know.

"So Contagious"
- Acceptance

"Oh no, this couldn't be more unexpected
And I can tell that I've been moving in so slow
Don't let it throw you off too far
Cause I'll be running right behind you

Could this be out of line?
(could this be out of line?)
To say you're the only one breaking me down like this
You're the only one I would take a shot on
Keep me hanging on so contagiously

Oh, when I'm around you I'm predictable
Cause I believe in loving you at first sight
I know it's crazy but I'm hoping to
To take a hold of you

Could this be out of line?
(could this be out of line?)
To say you're the only one breaking me down like this
You're the only one I would take a shot on
Keep me hanging on so contagiously

Oh you're everything I'm wanting
Come to think of it, I'm aching
On account of my transgression
Will you welcome this confession?

Could this be out of line?
(could this be out of line?)
To say you're the only one breaking me down like this
You're the only one I would take a shot on
Keep me hanging on so contagiously

Could this be out of line?
(could this be out of line?)
To say you're the only one breaking me down like this
You're the only one I would take a shot on
Keep me hanging on so contagiously

I wish I could bold and huge-ify this whole song without it looking ugly and annoying on friends' pages because every line means something. This was all useless for me. I should've just left it dead and gone. I should've done it all when I had the fucking chance and SJKLgzhdjghsjklhsdfjghyserjhyy FUCK.

Fuck. I dunno man. I dunno what to say about this that I haven't already said and/or repeated. I'm still somewhat speechless. I feel like Anya at the end of "Hells Bells" after Xander tells her and she's just walking down the aisle, numb and quiet. But that's okay 'cause there's nothing left to say; except that this is the first time I've ever felt ashamed to feel whatever the hell it is I feel.

  • Current Music
    Acceptance; So Contagious
play it louder; by starfaded

Last words

"After the End"

Sometimes I wonder what life made out of me
- a lost sinking space filled with unclarity.
Fuzzy images show through the filthy broken lens
which pieces stayed together even after sorrow's end.

Bludgeoned down the highway, and swept from side to side
all the feelings mixed together and melted inside.
And the clouds of coming fog and untimely desperation
will kill me as I lose even more of my sensation.

I stand up taller when I'm down on my knees.
I'm blown far as a feather in the light autumn breeze.
To a world of calloused old-aged entreprenuers,
I'm a fool to believe that I couldn't ever just lose her.

Cursed to dream of what may or may not come,
I toss and I throw away souveniers by the ton.
But I still feel too heavy to even open my eyes
for their windows were locked by so many goodbyes.

Failing, I'm failing to spot a source of truth in here
in a place that seems empty though it's filled with sad fear.
I'd wake up if only I could find an impossible way
to get back to my heart I left behind that day
where I died and my love still turned away
for ever since then, I haven't been okay.

Fifteen months might as well be a hundred years
for such a length of time chips away at the tears.
From heartache so overwhelming that it binds one's breath
and bathes all colour in darkness as if you were dead.
But days pass by the month and it takes its toll.
It erases happiness you felt inside of your soul,
and lets the questions go by unseen and unanswered;
- as if the times that you'll never forget never really mattered.


But she's still here with me inside of my room,
and still drives me around in the light of the moon,
and still kills me with silence everyday.

I still can't live this life after she threw ours away."

November 22nd, 2006