Academy Award Winner, Trent Reznor. It sounds so bizarre, but I knew he always had it in him. This song is amazing, by the way. Well-composed, written, produced, all of the above.

I also think it makes sense that the said Academy Award winner is married to a foxy, Filipino broad with a beautiful voice. It also makes sense that their project together would sound exactly like a recent Nine Inch Nails with a female singer. There is hope for me. Now I just need to find an Academy Award winning husband. Fair enough.

I'm not sure why I do the things that I do.

If you want to say goodbye to everything, I could say goodbye too.

This is the first time I've actually gotten to miss you since you went away.

"With all your lies, You're still very lovable."

"Tonight your ghost will ask my ghost, who put these bodies between us?"

And of course, after I write that last post guess who decides to call saying, "I don't even remember why I was mad at you..." and say that he wasn't ignoring me on purpose he was just "so busy." Save it.

I know I'm not perfect. I know this very well. I just want to find someone who is willing to not give up on me after only a few days. I guess I just got really confused when you told me you wanted to help me get straight. I confused you for someone who wanted to stay. And that's where I messed up. I know.

But now, that's over. I just want to know what you thought you did wrong. You spent all this time saying it was me, and my fault for being "pushy" and "needy." You told me I blamed everyone else. But I didn't blame anyone but myself, which is what I think you didn't understand. Yeah, maybe I blamed Pablo a little bit, but only because I didn't think it was his business to know anything about what we did. Which, it wasn't. Just like how it wasn't any of my business to ask what you guys would talk about when you would hang out, which is why I never did. It wasn't my business when you guys would hang out, just like it was never his business when we would. He was included in everything to the point where it wasn't like I was just talking to you, I was talking to him too. And he would ask me to talk to him because I wouldn't understand you, and I didn't think it was right. Which, it wasn't. But I did anyway, because I didn't know how you felt about me. You didn't even have to tell me how you felt. I just wanted an assurance (you know, prior to going insane with not knowing how you felt). I guess I just asked you things the wrong way, but you never asked for clarification because perhaps you thought I was just so sure of everything I was saying.

And so the other day, before Pablo officially stopped talking to me because you and I are no longer talking (which seems a little backwards, don't you think? But anyway), he asked me if I thought I wanted to re-commit myself, if I thought it would help me. Which, I also thought was none of his business, but because I'd known him for so long and we'd been through so much together (which was also my mistake again, because he's clearly not doing the same thing. He just wanted me to stop talking to his friend.) I ignored that fact, and I told him, "yes and no." I told him that because if I know if I were to do so, I would be in there for good. There would be no life for me outside of the hospital. Because I was such a mess last time after I came out, if I were in there any longer, I would kiss-goodbye everything it was to be human. When I was finally discharged, I had completely forgotten what it was like to communicate. I couldn't talk to anyone, not even my Mom or Rommel. Nothing short of a 3 word phrase left my lips. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk, because I did, that was all I wanted to do. But I couldn't. I had forgotten what it was even like. The films we had, on vhs of course, were the only things that loosely kept me close to realty. And the news as well, mainly with current events such as bombings in the middle east and gas leaks in old homes. But it was so muting that I had to learn to tune it out. I've never been diagnosed with autism or anything related to that in my life, but from what I've gathered, it seemed it was very fitting metaphor to my situation. Perhaps no more a metaphor than it was a fact. I was numb, I was hyped up on dozens of antidepressants, sleeping pills, anxiety medication, and well, all that. All so I wouldn't be sad anymore. It took me a while to even remember words I would constantly use. I didn't remember what they were, or what they meant. My brain was a blank canvas. And then at that point, I just wanted to feel something again. Not too much, but just enough so I would remember what it was like to be human again. Of course it got blown out of proportion because I got worse. The drugs came back, and slowly but surely, there I was, feeling somewhat normal. Disoriented, but still, somewhat normal.

Two months later, I'm talking to you, and for some reason you thought it was clever to tell me that if I ever needed help with ditching the drugs, you would help. And at first, I wanted it. I didn't want this life. With anyone else I would and still usually feel awkward or misplaced, like I'd rather just stay home with my dog than be a crazy mess ie, from downer to wild party animal/booze killer (the latter was of course the one most people saw and loved, so it had always been so easy for me to just get drunk.). I didn't want this life, I didn't want to live how I do, but now I do. I'm weak. But here, I had met someone who was everything I could've ever wanted, and I figured that if you wanted to help me, then not all hope was lost. You didn't even know me. You were probably just being friendly. You were just the only person who ever asked. I figured you saw something in me, something that made even you realize that the drugs weren't for me, and that I deserved better for myself because I was just killing myself, wasting my potential, maybe. But then, I got too comfortable. I would forget that you were a completely different person from what I was used to in a relationship. I kept thinking you were going to handle things the way Pablo handled them because of our history and present, but he was the last person I had a real relationship with. Yes, I had dated other guys before and after mine and his relationship, but only after our relationship was I sexually active, and that was mainly all it was with the other guys. Hanging out, getting drunk together and having sex, but it was mutually agreed that our relationships were going nowhere. Pablo was and to this day has been my last serious relationship. And so I would forget that you didn't know me as well as I thought you did. I got scared. I kept thinking that after every conversation, you would just get up and walk away. So I tried to not care, which lead me into digging into the drugs again. It was just weed, at first. And I was fine with that, it's marijuana, I've got a prescription for it, whatever. Yeah, and then I lied to you for the first and only time ever. And I felt like such shit for it. I didn't want you to think I was a coward. But I knew you knew I was lying, so I don't know why I didn't just tell you. I guess I just felt stupid afterwards, you knew I was stoned, and maybe you were even embarrassed. Because I was so unbelievably stoned, coming down, but still stoned, when I met your best friend Anthony, whom at this point, I think is the only person you could ever truly trust. And I was meeting him for the first time. It was a really terrible first impression, and I felt terrible for it. I didn't want it to be like that, and I know you didn't either. At this point, I just felt like I kept making the wrong choices and I was so worried about messing this up.

But in the end, I did. And there's nothing I can do about it now. Because I was confused. I was hearing one thing from you, something from Pablo, and something about Gaby about our relationship. And it didn't help that I would keep hearing that Pablo was still in love with me from Gaby by what I would tell her, and then I would confront him about it, and he'd freak out and yell at me, telling me he'd never be with me again because I did something with you. And they would also talk, a lot. More than Pablo and I would talk. Maybe more than even you and Pablo would talk. She would tell me how he's still in love with me, but that I shouldn't talk to him, and she made it seem genuine because she would compare him to Joe. But low and behold, this girl just cannot stand not being the center of everyone's attention. Why anyone would want what I had for the past year, I don't know. But she ended up talking to Pablo a lot more than she should've, despite the both of us knowing that for a while, Pablo did want to get with her. She told me that if Joe ever told her anything like that, she would kill him. Well, that was the day I should've killed Pablo. But I would still come to her with advice about you, and she'd tell me to or not to do certain things. And I shouldn't have listened to her, but I did, because she always has guys flocking around her. She's always been able to keep guys coming for more. And so, I listened to her, and I shouldn't have, because it all got me in trouble with you anyway. I just didn't know what to do, I didn't want to say the wrong thing because I knew how the hospital had changed me. I could barely keep up a conversation with you, and it wasn't because I was doing anything wrong, it was because I didn't know what to say because I couldn't find the words in my head. Big sigh. All in all, It just felt like a huge conspiracy against me, and all I wanted was clarification.

That's still all I want. But so now, here I am. Still disoriented, still slightly autistic, still on drugs. Just without you, and the clear idea that all I had ever wanted was you, and that I should have been strong enough to say no to him all this time. But I wasn't. And having to keep that a secret from you, to salvage yours and Pablo's friendship, made me go crazy. It's like I had kept looking for more and more ways to fuck up, unintentionally of course, and then I just screwed myself over for you assholes in the end. Because of course, you're not talking to me, and Pablo isn't talking to me anymore either. But he's still talking to my cousin everyday. Rad. But that's what are drugs are for.


ps. but how come I was the only one who knew what the right thing to do here was? I'm just a little girl.

I'm always so busy when I'm doing make-up that I never have time to take any pictures or to fix my own make-up.

I wish that people didn't think that I were interested in them just because I'm polite and helpful. But sure, I will take your free drinks and give you nothing in return.

I don't think I will ever get enough of this man's voice, and if he ever loses his voice I'm not sure what I would do.

Might have literally lost my mind a little bit last night. But I always wake up the next morning in the more fragile mental state.

"I have loved but I've lost all that they gave me. They all try to save me, but I'm seeing this thing through. And these feelings of remorse, they leave me no recourse. So I pour another glass. Fail again and again."

When I was younger, I used to read a lot about phoenixes. How they're reborn from their ashes. I obsessed over it. And I also never thought it was fair that only cats had nine lives and dogs didn't. But now that I'm older I've learned that it is a mixture of both ideas.

All I wanted was for you two stupid boys to stop talking about us. Because him knowing about everything we did, made it as if I weren't only having this "relationship" with you, but also him. Which I would let you know, that's not what I wanted at all.

To whom it may concern--

To think that I asked to be this way would be a complete lie. I didn't ask to feel this way about anyone, especially you. I'm just so tired. I'm so tired of everything. I'm sorry I can't be as strong as everyone else is. But this is how I am. And nobody wants to stick around long enough to see their significant other go from potentially a wife to a child because they don't trust her to be left alone. Nobody wants that, especially me, and it's always an option. So I'm setting us both free.

Sincerely,
Sarah Brooke

I wish we never had anything in common. I think I'd be fine if I never saw a zombie again, or a stupid old pit bull. I wish we had never spoken of our favorite movies and tv shows, like Lost, Sons of Anarchy, Trueblood. I wish I had never watched anything and had it remind me of you. Or remind me of us. I wish we never watched any of those stupid movies, and enjoyed them together. I wish we both didn't love halloween, or watching people get torn apart by monsters or lunatics. I wish you didn't ever try to help me get straight and ditch the drugs. I wish I had never showed an interest in you, and what you were trying to help me through, or that you had reciprocated anything either. Because its more than obvious we both wasted too much time and energy in something that would've never happened. But I think that's just the hopeless romantic in us both, deep down somewhere there. But most importantly, I wish I never longed for your touch or to hear your voice, I wish I never felt the way you made me feel, like nothing else mattered, just you and me. And the most, most importantly, I wish I never laid eyes on you in that stupid bike shop in stupid middle of nowhere, Virginia, about 5 years ago in your stupid blue, plaid shirt and your stupid short-shorts that make everyone feel uncomfortable. I wish none of this had ever happened because then I know I wouldn't be lost here and alone without you, wondering what I could've done differently so that I could be yours.

Blowing off two classes, a midterm, a midterm project, and my sanity. This is me in control of my life. I am in control, no one else.

I wish I didn't always feel so sick in the mornings.

Good-bye, motivation, happiness, curiosity, blue eyes. Hello, depression/artists block/all bad things I don't want in my life.

I want so badly to just give up already.

http://t.co/ktzmMkmi
"Darkest Side" - The Middle East

I'm not sure what I would've done had I not escaped Virginia's grasp. Other than rotted, of course, with the rest of them, in an old truckbed and a tan. Or worse, in a snowstorm. With a baby. [shudders] God, that's terrifying.

Don't get me wrong, Virginia will always be home to me. But if I didn't get out of there when I did, I wouldn't be living my dream, doing gorey make-up or making movies and learning about the process. If I go home after school, I'm done for. But I know very well that that is not an option. Because if I go back home, I will probably just end up in jail. Riight, Dad?

It's kind of funny how materialistic my horoscope tells me I am. Funny because I am a girl who has bought nothing nice or pricey for myself or anyone since my first year of college 3 years ago. I'm okay with marijuana, booze, and cigarettes though.

I keep trying to make myself disappear. To not be noticed. But I try so hard, and I really don't know why because it's pretty obvious that I'm not supposed to be invisible. I'm not supposed to be dead. Just to certain people. No, but we'll see. I just want to make you wish you were dead.

I've seen men rise and fall, get to the top, and just cannot handle it. You won't be forgotten, but you will forever be just "one of those men." Its quite dismal though, I was really expecting you to last a little longer. But you dropped like a fly, way quicker than the last. How unfortunate.

Love,
Me.

I miss being able to love you without any consequences.

This is my Sunday afternoon.