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whoa 8:02 p.m. 2003-12-04 I scream, really truly scream because... i just love the feeling of pressing a part of my body past where its supposed to go, i love how i can hear/feel the distortion and twisting of my voice. I love the pain and the way i feel numb afterwards and i love the way i can't talk for hours, evidence of my pain the only way you'll ever see it. Your hurt manifests on cuts up and down your body, mine in a scratchy voice, and for some reason, watery eyes. But the best part is, when i scream, i can make it beautiful, i can twist it into love songs and i can make songs with this torment. These screams don't dig my hole deeper they are healing me little by little, like every touch of your skin AND YOU right now i want to be angry with you because you can't FUCKING SEE. you talk about how you hate the lies and the way people try to 'make you feel better' if that's the case lead by fucking example. You know what, when i tell you you're pretty or beautiful or cute or when i compliment you in any way, I'M NOT FUCKING LYING TO YOU. I'm not trying to make you feel better, i'm not trying to say the things you want to hear. I'm tell you the truth. You're the one who's lying, every time you tell yourself you're ugly and fat and that you don't deserve to live. All you ever fucking do is try to make yourself feel worse, in the hopes that maybe someday you'll gather the loathing to end it. And you dont' believe me when i say it, not because i'm lying, but because you are. You refuse to accept that there could be something good about yourself, because if you did, if you accepted that i thought you were beautiful, you'd have to look at things differently. You'd have to open your eyes and live. You don't believe me i know but i know what its like and i've been where you are for years. You may cut, but i've brutalized my insides for so much longer. The truth is, if you knew, and accepted that I thought you were beautiful, you couldn't say that no one loved you and no one thought you looked good. WHen you looked in the mirror, you'd try to say to yourself 'i'm ugly and horrible', but a voice inside would say 'he doesn't think so'. it would be unstoppable after that, it wouldn't end this but it would change it. And it doens't fucking matter how you feel about me, it doesn't matter even a little bit. in fact feelings have nothing to do with it at all. and i'm here now telling you the truth again. I've seen you and you're beautiful. I think you know i'm talking to you... by the way you can be plural. oh and, i need your opinion, if you read this leave me a note. which is the best... band name by the way dollar fifty jesus, fifty cent saviour or fiftyfive cent jesus... i can't quite decide which one i like the best
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