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So I update this almost every single day for you
i begin to hate you for your face and not just the things you do.
Created on 2005-02-06 05:09:26 (#6032449), last updated 2006-03-14
86 comments received, 115 comments posted
Basic Account [Gift]
63 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 1 Memory, 0 Virtual Gifts, 3 Userpics
Basic Info| Name: | Cut Yourself Open. Stitch Yourself Back Up. |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 09-26 |
| Location: | United Kingdom |
BioJust Another Teenage Girl's Desperate Pleas for validity.
This journal makes me cringe. Its where i come to whine and bitch and gripe and moan about my nonexistant problems and hate myself for doing it. Its currently not much in use because im happy; i may turn it into a happy journal. Mainly, its my secret journal for only my closest friends and furthest flung strangers. Dont expect to be added if i know you. This is my honesty. This is like reading a half-arsed hacks version of Invisible Monsters. This isnt worth your time. Only the most trusted are welcome.
Words are the enemy of Beauty
and beauty is the enemy of truth
This is for every honest word spoken by dishonest lips. This is for every jealous tear and selfish snipe, for every thing thats ever made you cry. This is for every time you've felt alive, and at the same time imprisoned in a film. This is for the way we were raised. This is for every ounce of catholic guilt vested in the people on their knees, while their working class kids run riot in the streets. This is for the sleazy guys and their wives. This is for the girls in the kitchen. This is for a saturday night cigarette watching the stars in a park. This is for sunday mornings in Camden Town. This is for the seconds we spend taking each other for granted. This is for forgetting people who used to be your everything. This is for pregnant silences. This is for teenage risks. This is for hangovers and morning- afters laughed off by memories of the night before. This is for that moment when we all become cheapened by sex. This is for every time someone calls you "Love", "Darling" or "Sweetheart". Cherish the intimacy in those words. Most importantly this is for every Irish man ever born. This is for a certain type of life.
This journal makes me cringe. Its where i come to whine and bitch and gripe and moan about my nonexistant problems and hate myself for doing it. Its currently not much in use because im happy; i may turn it into a happy journal. Mainly, its my secret journal for only my closest friends and furthest flung strangers. Dont expect to be added if i know you. This is my honesty. This is like reading a half-arsed hacks version of Invisible Monsters. This isnt worth your time. Only the most trusted are welcome.
Words are the enemy of Beauty
and beauty is the enemy of truth
This is for every honest word spoken by dishonest lips. This is for every jealous tear and selfish snipe, for every thing thats ever made you cry. This is for every time you've felt alive, and at the same time imprisoned in a film. This is for the way we were raised. This is for every ounce of catholic guilt vested in the people on their knees, while their working class kids run riot in the streets. This is for the sleazy guys and their wives. This is for the girls in the kitchen. This is for a saturday night cigarette watching the stars in a park. This is for sunday mornings in Camden Town. This is for the seconds we spend taking each other for granted. This is for forgetting people who used to be your everything. This is for pregnant silences. This is for teenage risks. This is for hangovers and morning- afters laughed off by memories of the night before. This is for that moment when we all become cheapened by sex. This is for every time someone calls you "Love", "Darling" or "Sweetheart". Cherish the intimacy in those words. Most importantly this is for every Irish man ever born. This is for a certain type of life.
ConnectInterests (139):
'tis, 80s music, accents, ach, afi, alcohol, alkaline trio, angela's ashes, anti-feminism, aye, back to the future, baileys, being happy, being loved, being silly, being with people, belfast, belle and sebastian, bernard black, betrayal, big words, black books, brian the dog, broken hearts, cake, camden town, candles, cheers darlin', clive owen, closer, cocknies, coffee, commander venus, curt wild, damien rice, disappointment, donnie darko, drinking, dropkick murphys, dublin, dylan moran, eddie izzard, eels, eternal sunshine, eyes, falling in love, family guy, fight club, flogging molly, fonzie, forgetting, four leaf clovers, frank mccourt, friends, gary lightbody, george orwell, getting drunk, glenn quinn, glitter, glowsticks, good friday agreement, happy days, highlighters, hmv, housewifery, hugs, inside i'm dancing, insomnia, ireland, irish, irish accents, irish actors, irish books, irish culture, irish films, irish people, irish poetry, irish politics, irish republicanism, jonathan rhys meyers, leprechauns, let downs, lies, lillies, liverpudlians, love, lucky strikes, lyrics, making tea, mighty boosh, misogynists, muse, music, northern ireland, paddy casey, placebo, quagmire, radiohead, ramones, reading festival, remembering, republic of ireland, roddy doyle, romance, rory o'shea, rory o'shea was here, running away, sarcasm, seamus heaney, sex pistols, sexism towards women, sexist jokes, shaking, sid vicious, sleep, sleeping, smiling, smoking, snow, snow patrol, song writing, spaced, stars, tea, the 80's, the fonz, the french, the kitchen, the mighty boosh, the moon, the rain, the struggles, the troubles, the working class, trainspotting, transvestites, velvet goldmine, vodka, volunteering
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