RageLove

do you get done! i get done with everything. everything is so delayed rite now. i love my new myspace song, it just screams what i cant get out of my guts and what is eating me inside.

im never going to stop writing these stupid self centered blogs. i think im going to open a secret blog for this kind of stuff and form a tightly nit click no one will be apart of and then be the loner that everyone says that i am.

ill incriminate myself further with all the fucking words i say. everything i talk about is nothing because i make it nothing because i want it to be nothing.

I keep it hidden, yo. you cant and wont man. i dont want you to. cuz you get inside and you dont know what the fuck your doing and say and touch areas that are very sensitive and you fuck it up. you make me go deeper into the hole, the blackness that consumes great portions of my heart. you think you have the rite lingo and the urban law of life.

you need a spell check for all the wrong words you say to me. you have no idea what kind of perverted theme park is going on inside my brain. so dont try tell me to get off the ride yet. you bring the circus to town when shit does go down with you. all the funny things start to make me scared cuz its all about you.

it was always about you. when are you going to wake the fuck up, drink a cup of joe, read the paper and learn. you just wont though. i dont know why, but you just wont, so you leave me empty everywhere stranded in my mind, running in my thoughts in my sleep, i cry in my sleep cuz i wont cry while im aware.

your car is a mess, its got maggots everywhere. the flies try to get out of the window but its not open. it hasnt been in a while so they die. they leave there eggs in your chair everywhere. they grow rite back after you smash them in the frustration.

do you look ugly in the morning like me, you just hate doing your hair because it wont go the rite way. it never does, only when your about to go to sleep and you look in the mirror and wish it was the start of the day so you could walk in with the confidence you have in the mirror rite then, then into the room full of your peers. keep that convo you’ve always to have going with them. but it never happens. the morning after is worse because you thought you might have the chance at making it the same. but it wont.

you cant sleep, you cant eat, you lose weight, and you die a little more inside each day because nothing is guaranteed and that is the problem. you have the whole wide world in your sights, but the world seems so big, much bigger than you think it is and you cant grasp it. you just want the relief for once, but it comes and goes. and when you want it and wont stay with you. you pray for it, you want it to be your brother,your mother your father, and your life. but its your enemy because its a tease, and just messes you up day after day after moment after long night after year after childbirth.

dont wake up the morning, its hard, your eyes are so glued shut already. its just that much sleep you need to be up 5 hours of the day. 15 hours of sleep is not enough, it leaves to much time to be awake in reality and deal with life. your not on the drugs like before but the tussin gets you where you need to be.

the play list of your life always is on repeat because its how you function, its how your able to sleep at night if you do. sleeping is not a gift anymore, because you dont want to sleep, but you feel like you could sleep for years on end but trying to sleep is the hardest thing to in the world. its scares you, my heart races and the shadows crawl around my room in front of my face. they wont go away. and you tell them to stop and they dont. they fuck with your head so much.

this place doesn’t move like you want, the lousy older brother that dosent care about your younger sisters birthday wishes as much as your mental state and stable-ness.

life is on the silver platter, you got the things you always wanted. your just miserable, your just miserable, just miserable,just miserable,just..miserable.

what does it consist of anymore, eating. never full enough to be content on life or yourself or the surroundings. anything your create. anything you think you like. what think, isnt was is. really it isnt. the people are just to fucking much to handle anymore.

convincing yourself its ok 1000 times a second, as you sleep, as you have no control over your mind. the mind just goes and goes, she was there in your dreams and you loved her and she isnt real. you cant find her, shes lost, and you just want to find her, but you cant find her, shes in your dream, shes only a picture, shes only a picture in your dream, and you loved her, but shes only a picture from a heroine moment that you loved, and shes a picture you loved.

bloody sweaty, fingers from the end of the night, i just i let it out cuz i cant anywhere else or to anyone. they just dont listen, everyone has there own things going.

tl;dr

ahomeboyslife:

“It’s like I have a loaded gun in my mouth and my finger’s on the trigger, and I like the taste of the gunmetal.” robert downey jr.

for what feels like forever fall out boy has been my therapy. i dont know what it was before that. but it was a part of everything i felt. i know i might not have smiled or talked at meet and greets from time to time. sometimes we had flown in at 5 am or i was sick or had something going on. sometimes i felt shy. sometimes just a bit off. most times i assume people dislike me when i meet them so i dont really talk a whole lot. but every single night on that stage is where i left everything that was twisted up inside my stomach. every single wish. everything. all of the big blackness poured out in sweat, words, screams. and i have to admit i let the fame bug crawl inside me and turn me into mr. hyde for a minute. but i was off of that a long time before anyone thinks i was- in fact all of “ioh” is about being off of it. unfortunately it is something like pandoras box and once you open it- it cant be shut again. and i wish it could more than anybody. if you are a fan of mine please dont vote for me in those stupid polls or anything that doesnt have to do with something i feel passionate about. even that being said. even pretty much going out every night thinking the whole front row of the audience hated me. it felt like going from hulk hogan to sid justice, or whatever his name was. but it still was therapy. and i felt a connection. i felt like a real human. im not the greatest one on one. actually i am probably one of the worst. i dont like to talk or at least i keep whatever i am thinking bottled up. i guess this is me saying thank you for giving that to me. i dont think i can say it enough.

without it now i feel like i am unravelling. and i the reason for the robert downey jr. quote is ive read in interviews that he turned to physical activities and martial arts as a form of therapy. and i guess thats where i get my therapy now that fob is gone. i get it from running and yoga. its bringing me to a better place in my head. no real reason to write this- except to say: you guys were real. you guys are real. pretty rare these days.

its everything im feeling rite. im not famous, but i got to many emotions bottled up and i cant find a good way to get them out. and people usually find me really awkward.

I found this photo years back in a calender at my old house in Dunedin, Fl. At the time I was young about maybe 13. I kept the picture in my head everywhere i would go.

God’s love for everyone is stronger than you could imagine ones love to be. Regardless of your past, regardless if your an atheist, if your not sure of where you stand or what your belief is. It is about believing, the demons believe and tremble before god. but its more…

Its about a relationship. its intimate, its real, its the best choice you could ever make in your life.

God is not a politician, hes not a character depicted on family guy. He loves you. if you look at this picture you can tell what the fathers love is. His arms are always open.

Im going to just start writing and see where i end up.

Im not going to express how i feel on here