DuskSong

Americ

an Football

don't work for Hot Topic. New associate expectations are a major reason I quit as soon as I could back in June. The fun, spirit and soul of the company is dead, and has been decaying for years. Also the pay and hours are awful in general for sales associates.

Tried 1919 Rootbeer today. Nothing special, just an overbearing vanilla flavor that overpowers the actual rootbeer taste.

It is absolutely revolting and disgusting that people still call for the death/genocide of LGBT people to this day. I will always wonder why these people cannot just let people live their lives as they are. How does the love life of someone you don't even know impact your daily life? I mean.. besides the studies that show that homophobes are very likely to same-gender attractions, the only theory I have is that these people are afraid of their own feelings, or the decades of indoctrination into hateful religions. But, I will say again: the love life of other people do NOT impact your own life, so fuck off and stop telling others how to live their lives. It's not yours to live. Focus on yourself. 

" Day by day we grew to love this place,
And where I make my grave is where my anchor lays.
The sound of my youth echoes out through these empty streets,
I guess I can't kick up the roots;
It's home, and that's the truth.

I've been wasting away,
But in a town with no way out, there's not much else to do anyway,
If you're looking for a place to decay,
Then there will always be a place in my town called revelry."

~Neck Deep

i hate when summer rolls around.. i feel i isolate myself. but i have a demanding job, hobbies, and a whole lot of shit in my head i have to sort through just to get by. i guess i just miss being carefree and living without all of these expectations, responsibilities and the imbalanced chemicals of my brain.

we are made of everything and the foundations to grow

but i am nothing and i'm decaying slow

Life is hell sometimes. Can't avoid that, though. But, I have a new job which means more money, and more time out of the house to distract myself.

Last day of 11th grade tomorrow. I'm losing quite a few senior friends, and it's killing me

i'm still alive. depression has been choking the life out of me for some time, but things are slowly getting better.

i lost a friend to suicide last week..

this hurts.

this sunlight and nice weather has eradicated my S.A.D symptoms, ohmylord. feels good.

"There's another blade
And there's a bottle of pills, a fifth of vodka, a hospital visit, two weeks of inpatient while your whole family prays for you to get better
There's a doctor with blank eyes who never looks at you
He’s always scribbling things on his clipboard
Everything you say, he documents, even when you're not talking to him
You don't smoke, but you still go out for smoke breaks with everyone else on the ward because there's nothing else to do but stare at the walls, and wait for the next group session to start
So you hang out in the courtyard, not smoking cigarettes but still befriending those who do

And there's a man
Maybe ten years older than you, with eyes like rough-cut pine and sunset
He notices you don't smoke, so he tries to stay downwind from you so he doesn’t exhale in your face
He tells you it's okay, bud
We'll get through this and be better when we leave this place than it was when we got here
And he's telling you the truth
And you believe him

One day, the doctor who doesn't look at you comes to your room and tells you that your insurance isn't paying for any more days, so you're all better now
And you leave
Your mom picks you up in the lobby and her eyes are the most worried kindness you've ever seen and you go home
And you fight off the ghosts, which is easier now than it was before, because now you have a better set of tools today, and your life goes on like it was meant to
Like you were always supposed to survive the fight

You stop writing poems about smoke tendrils trailing off the lips you once wanted to kiss, or about how your loneliness is so unbearable, because now you write poems about how to stay alive
You write poems about the places you feel at home rather than the places you wish you could be

One day, you catch a glimpse of someone in the mirror, and there you are
Eyes like stubbornness and struggle
Like the brick buildings in abandoned factory towns that refuse to fall completely
You look at all the scars, the history etched into your arms like a road map of where you used to be
Versus the endless possibilities of where you are and where you can go now
And the smoke tendrils, once midnight black and swirling above your head, break away, leaving nothing in your view except the sky
And it is so perfect
And it is so clear"

~Old Gray

I will never be able to look at a bottle of alcohol without feeling pure hatred and disgust. that shit is responsible for my family losing everything, and it's responsible for the fucking chaotic atmosphere of my family life now, with switched parental roles.

I'll slit my throat with the broken glass of a bottle before I let that shit come anywhere near my tongue.

Take your peer pressuring and normalizing of getting shit-faced every Friday and Saturday night, and shove it.

It's not normal, and being a fucking drunk trainwreck ain't a desirable trait.