This red thread is about to break.

If you say you don't believe in love, fuck you. Because you are essentially saying I will never be able to fall in love. There is no such thing as "lust" for me. That doesn't apply to me. That isn't what I can feel. I do not feel sexual attraction towards anyone. And you're going to sit there and tell me that love does not exist, that I am going to be forever left alone, that the only option I have is lust?

Fuck you.

This is not a matter of opinion. This is a matter of personal pride, that I have to defend myself and others like me against views like this. Because you are basically denying me the right to feel. You are degrading me and my feelings and you are dumping me in the gutter, saying I am not even human because all I am supposed to have is lust, something I can't feel.

Fuck you.

The radio told me I am redefining love.  Good. Because obviously it needs to be redefine. I understand that love can do terrible things and I understand that love doesn't save you and I understand that lust is a thing people mistake with love. But the fact of the matter is, love exists. You can not deny the existence of something just because you have never seen a positive outcome of it. There are things love can't save you from, things like anger and depression. I have seen people who are so in love with each other, but it didn't save them. That's not what love is supposed to do. It isn't supposed to be easy.

Love is hard.

It isn't eternal, it isn't forever, it changes. Like any feeling. You think you're happy and that you couldn't be happier, and then sometime later you'll feel something strong and you have to keep calling it happy, even if it isn't the same. Words are imperfect and so is love. How the hell do you define love? How the hell are you supposed to take this feeling that is so encompassing and so complicated and pin some pathetic little four-letter word like "love" on it and point to it and say, "That's it."

Because that's not what love is.

So don't you dare go telling me that something like that doesn't exist, because if I can't believe in love I can't believe in anything other than lust. And I've got no hope of ever experiencing any relationships if I can't have love.

And I'm sorry, but I don't think I could handle being that hopeless.

nobara no hanayomeGood

Where have they gone?

 I carry beautiful words in my head, but it's sad really.

I'm inarticulate.

On the way to my mouth, they turn into dust.
Tragedy, because my words are my heart but no one knows their language.
Even I don't know how to speak it.

I've got flowers in my hair to make up for the dirt behind my lips, because I'm afraid society's turned my mouth filthy. And I don't quite know how to speak in a way you'll understand, because I think my words aren't just falling on deaf ears, but my accent is just too strong.

I never can say my "T"s or "R"s exactly right.

I wish I could share my heart, my words. I wish you could read what it's my head instead of me trying to translate it.

I almost failed Spanish class for a reason.

English was always my second language, whether or not anyone will admit to that. Listen close to a child and you'll understand that they're speaking something you used to know.
It's what my heart speaks, cryptic and nonsensical.

God was my first language and I've forgotten how to speak it.

You left me to die when I was buried alive.

x.o.

That's enough social interaction for one day.

Let's get something straight before we do anything else:

I am going to disappoint you.

There are eight drafts on my blog and not one is good enough.
They're all too personal, too boring, too plain, too ridiculous. I can't post that, that's about my dad. I can't post this, because if I do, she might take it offensively and we're already fighting. But then again, who gives a shit, might as well, because I haven't gotten the chance to apologize yet and I know I'm going to keep screwing up so might as well add to the things I need to say sorry for. I won't post the list of things that piss me off, because it swears too much and I'm trying not to scare off everyone with how many times I might say "fuck" in one post.

So instead of trying to make myself post anything like that, I'm just going to write shit.

This is where the whole disappointment thing comes in. Because here's a confession: I'm not some lost, tortured soul. I'm not really poetic. I'm just some insomniac girl who loves fluffy things too much, laughs at butts, and tries to be full of good intentions. My life is full of my cat watching me brush my teeth, my dog farting and then wagging her tail until you pet her, and my family making fun of me because really, we're all a bunch of insensitive assholes.

Forgive me if I take after them.

My blood and my bones don't get along, which is probably due to the fact that my blood is intent on harm and my bones just want peace. My brain likes to plot and dream and doesn't make sense more often than not and my heart has been missing since I was twelve. It likes to pop back in every now and then, just to let me know what its plans are, but I can never convince it to come home.

I'm going away to college soon and I can't help but hope it at least follows me there.

The doctors like to speculate about what might be wrong with me, but they don't really know. I've given up on trying. I hate the way the hospital smells and all those white walls give me a headache. Plus my veins hate the doctors and needles hate me.

This whole thing is rambling and like I said, it's shit, but maybe I just need to write it somewhere.
Maybe someone can relate.

All I know is that my dog snoring makes me think of how he used to laugh at me for snoring and how he told me to go fuck myself yesterday. And how that hurts even worse, because last week she told me, "Fuck you."
Who can really blame them, though?

I think I take after my family more than I'd like to admit.

Do forgive me if I said fuck more than was comfortable. I wasn't joking when I warned that I had a swearing problem.

I guess I should write something worth-while now, but all I feel like doing is curling up in a towel on my bathroom floor and sleeping.

If you read this, hope you like being disappointed.

It's what I'm good at.