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by Me, Emily. -I.D.- I am me. Me is I. Can that change. If me wants to be her. If her is who I want to be... Then does me change. Does me wanting to be her change who I am. Or does me stay the same.
Why. Why do you feel the need to push, probe and prod all the way until the point of breaking.
I close my eyes this is what I see, the words in my head I am madness and madness is me silence is loud and darkness is red, images float through my head, a light is dim then gone lost in the stars,...
I just have to say this. I have nothing against religious people at all.
Obligations. Obligations to myself, my sister, my parents, and everyone else. Everyone I know expects everything from me, and then gets upset when I let them down.
Me. I am you. I am both my mums and dads and theirs also. I am the brothers and sisters I grew up with and the dog I grew close too.
I walked into a room which I've seen before but it has a different significance now. I saw a girl standing there before me, she looked different from the last time I stumbled upon her.
Just what exactly do you expect from me.
I'm no longer sure if it is me or everyone else. I am in a position of self doubt followed by disappointment and loathing all too often.
I am. I am not yours to own. I was flesh and blood before. I remain so. And I will be after you. If we should walk the walk and stumble. I will not crumble and break.
As I strolled down the street one evening In the distance I saw a large crowd Getting closer I saw a man on a box Waving and shouting out loud.
Most people always say that none of us our perfect, that is how God created us, but did he.
Добрый вечер, Ань) Если бы мне была нужна толпа фанатов, я бы изначально выглядел по другому. Это достаточно легко ( по сравнению с другими вещами) достижимо.
Вот я сижу в самолете, по пути домой, самое время собрать мысли в клубок и попробовать написать тебе письмо.
Locked inside my mind; The outward visage, a masquerade, Shows no resemblance of the soul. Tear it open. Rip from us our masks; They cover the scars of reality, The true impact of life.
Maybe for those of us without a home to point to, nomads, we use music. It anchors us the way a home town would.
Fashion is so close in revealing a person's inner feelings and everybody seems to hate to lay claim to vanity so people tend to push it away. It's really too close to the quick of the soul.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I think that I have found someone who will love me.
He was sick. So sick. And finally decided to end his own life by jumping down from the 24th floor, and leave him behind. He was sad. Heartbroken. Couldn’t move on for a long time.
So, I've just been told after a long awaited hearing test that my loss of hearing is fairly typical of someone of my age.
Like most girls, I wear make-up.
I found a wallet, it was sat on the crack between two slabs of pavement as I was walking home from shopping.
People are constantly telling me to "be myself", but what if I don't know who that is. Maybe I am not truly happy with the way I have been modelled and there are things I want to change.
It's been a bit of a strange fortnight. I quit my job and I finish at the end of the month.