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wakefuldreamer

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(no subject) [Nov. 13th, 2004|10:31 pm]
wakefuldreamer
[mood |Missing in action]

It happens again and again and again. Break my heart, half-heal and repeat.

Dreaming almost cuts it, but it never quite made it. It never really has, but I was always one to pretend. Is that so wrong?
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(no subject) [Mar. 26th, 2004|11:22 am]
wakefuldreamer
[mood |pensivepensive]

Sometimes I don't have the time to write.
Or maybe I fail to write in this thing because I'm realizing what a mediocre writer I am.
Or maybe no one really cares.

Life really is beautiful. I don't care what everyone says. Life in it's twisted simplicity, this disturbing meaningless void, everything I fought not to be and everything I am.
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(no subject) [Feb. 1st, 2004|10:48 pm]
wakefuldreamer
[mood |fucked over]

I kissed the clouds the other day, dancing in a darkened room.
I think kissing should be concidered a form of foreplay, even sex, it turns me on, and god, how erotic.
The thrill of the danger of getting caught turns me on, getting in trouble for stupid little things makes me cry.

I had a dream again, of the boy I knew so well. He touched a finger to my lips, said he'd never tell. But on memories such as these, those thoughts on which I dwell... My twisted mind just tells you all to go to hell.

Fuck me. This life sucks.
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(no subject) [Jan. 27th, 2004|08:05 pm]
wakefuldreamer
[mood |complacentcomplacent]

I found this somewhere, a cry for love in a different language.

Je veux t'aimer, quand je te voirai, quand tu me caresses, quand nous sommes seuls ensemble... T'es marvelleux quand tu es là, et tu es à moi.

Translation :
I want to love you, when I will see you, when you caress me, when we are along together... You're marvelous when you're there, and you're mine.

It kind of makes me sad, it seems like the writer is desperate, calling for someone she's never seen. A shadow, perhaps. The second phrase is in future tense, the third in present. Does that make sense? I'm sure the one who wrote it wasn't thinking straight. She (?) called to the shadows for a lover she can't find. The darkness is caressing her soul. She's probably a cutter.

Anyway, I wonder if the world knows what I am?
A dreamer. Obviously. Maybe the darkness is simply a river, and my life is a raft to float on.

Haha, dreams are stupid, but they're all I have to keep me going, you know? Probably not. I don't think anyone reads this.
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(no subject) [Jan. 26th, 2004|08:35 pm]
wakefuldreamer
[mood |confusedconfused]

I thought back to my first kiss, where my senses were screaming at me to move, do something, react properly.

My mind overrode that.

My parents haunt my dreams, trying to kill me.
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I can't tell myself from my reflection. I touch the glass and look back at myself... [Jan. 24th, 2004|11:54 pm]
wakefuldreamer
[mood |apatheticapathetic]

I dreamt I was falling to my life, a strange twist. Everyone around me spoke rapidly in a language I could barely understand, testing me. Wanting to know if I had died, if I was still existing. I wasn't sure.

Then he came to me, he's gay, you know, it always goes that way. Told me he loved me all the same. Life is funny like that. We made love under the lone willow tree by the river in the clearing in the woods, and he left after that. I lay there for a while, wondering if I should follow or sleep, becoming one with the mildly uncomfortable ground, with it's sticks and rocks and life. I just got up and went home, deciding my job was done.

But it's always like that, right?
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(no subject) [Jan. 22nd, 2004|07:14 pm]
wakefuldreamer
[mood |annoyedannoyed]

I dreamed of my death again.

I'll never say die.

Just when you thought life has fucked you over, the rapists come out to play.
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