Skrillex - Summit (feat. Ellie Goulding) [Video by Pilerats]

Toxic

Okay... This is probably this saddest or worst I've been in a lil while... nothing is going the way I expected in the least. My fam is okay today, that makes me happy. But seems like I am always glued to the wrong f*cking people. Why. WHYYY. He doesn't love you Bree. Get it through your stupid fcking head. I have to pull it together, I can't even get up, this depression is killing me, and work website is down anyway... soooooo I'm just looking for free stuff or maybe a nice non-addict person I can have a good night with. I just want someone to pick me up and take me to the fucking movies after dinner and then maybe we can have a drink, and I'll go home. I've never even gone on a REAL date. I'm so sad... really like I've never even had anyone respect me in my lifetime, and I demand it bc I have dealt with so much I'm basically a fucking pushover, shit taking machine, thus a bipolar (not really, product of my environment still...) raging lunatic when it gets last straw. I'll probably even get too depressed to fucking go on a date if I find a nice guy. Who the hell wants a nice guy. The nice ones are never "nice" they're usually the most perverted, weird, asshole non-normal dudes not even getting into looks. I'm not superficial about how guys look... I love many people and have in my life of all diff kinds. This is me. A lover. But I've become a fighter since Oct of 2012 since too many people drag me into their personal hell. But if I didn't ever make certain choices it wouldn't have lead to that.

http://tinybuddha.com/blog/5-signs-youre-in-a-toxic-relationship/

Digital Sea

                           "Digital Sea"

I woke, cold and alone
Adrift in an open sea
Caught up in regrets
And tangled in nets
Instead of your arms wrapped around me
And I wept, but my tears are anathema here
Just more water to fill my lungs
I hear someone scream
"God what is it we have done?"

I am drowning in a digital sea
I am slipping beneath the sound
Here my voice goes to ones and zeros
I'm slipping beneath the sound

A song from somewhere below
Deadly and slow begins
Both sickly and sweet
Now picking up speed
Ushering in the world's end
And the ghost of Descartes screams again in the dark
"Oh how could I have been so wrong?"
But above the screams the sirens sing their song

.

Here my voice goes...

...to ones and zeros

*** ones and zeros ***

Bye (God IS Listening)

Gone again to the hidey spot

Dunno when I come back.

Love me? I'll see your texts/calls if you don't see mine within 24 hrs. :)

"

• Conversation started December 6, 2009
• 

  4:17am

  Briana VideoGirl

  stripper funny

  Bree's note - I didn't write this, ViolaStrings did but she no longer has a LiveJournal. I just saved it a while back.

  Dear Strip Club Patrons

  Dear Fat, Disgruntled, Middle Aged, Middle Management Fucktard with a Wicked Sense of Entitlement,

  
  

  Please remember to bring common courtesy along with more cash when you come to the strip club. I swear, some of you come in to be able to PAY to abuse and belittle women. You love a venue where you can criticize women who wouldn't even LOOK at you outside of the club, much less coo at you with greater adoration than of a new mother to her infant. You would be lucky to eat my farts in real life. Quit asking me if I really like you and if I'm only into you for your money. Do you ask a roofer if he's fixing your roof for the money or the love of roofing? No. Then quit asking me if I'm sexually and emotionally validating you for the fun of it. NO, I am not. I would not do this for free. You are at a strip club, not a regular bar or a church singles mixer. No one here is sincere. That's part of the hassle free anonymous transaction, lubricated by cash and fakeness. You signed up for this when you lied to your wife about where you were going, went to the ATM, changed clothes so she can't smell the smoke and vanilla body spray you're going to reak like in 30 minutes, and paid the cover fee at the door of this STRIP CLUB! Unless you want to cultivate a meaningful friendship with me in VIP (where I charge $500 an hour for my delightful company and great conversation), we are not friends. And when you say "So... what GOES ON in VIP?" I automatically know you're a cheap dumb ass who's never been back there in your life, which is my signal to move on to the next customer. I'll say things like "I'm onstage next!" or "I need to touch up my lipstick!" and never come back, that translates to "you're a tight fisted loser, go get an ugly hooker if you want a $20 BJ". Lots of guys are smart enough to know if you want the undivided attention of a stripper, you gotta pay up, son! Learn to be one of those guys or demand less from me.

  Quit asking dumb questions. Of course, the most common question is (while staring at my chest with the intensity of a laser) "Are those real?" FUCK YOU DUDE. THEY'RE FAKE, BUT YOUR BITCH TITS ARE PLENTY REAL ENOUGH FOR US BOTH. I'll usually respond "No, they're a figment of your imagination" or "Sorry, they're actually a mirage". I had some other middle aged sucker pay for them. If you don't pay for them, they're real! Men of all ages are such haters about breast implants. We all know for a fact that some of you look down on us or write us off because our breasts aren't "real", but then they make fun of the girls with natural big breasts for being "fat" or calling them "saggy" or those without them for being "flat chested". Hey, breasts are made of fat, what do you want from us?! Yo, ugmo, if we only had gorgeous skinny girls with real breasts working as strippers, then our work force would be reduced by about 95%, and would drive the cost of our services up astronomically (IE, you wouldn't be able to afford it). Your demand for $10 table dances (with a $1 tip if I'm lucky, like I'm a fucking waitress bringing your fat ass country fried steak and mashed potatoes swimming in gravy) has created the need to outfit ordinary girls with cyborg tits. You're never going to get the chance to touch them, so what's your problem?! If you're going to bitch and question me like it's the Spanish Inquisition, go home to your nagging shrew of a wife. She's 100% natural and as wet as the Sahara for your paunch and receding hairline (I can't blame her for not wanting to fuck you. Maybe if you spent as much time meeting her needs as you did here, she wouldn't be so unpleasant). Quit creating the demand for big tits, blonde hair, and pretty faces, then belittle girls for having bleached hair, breast implants and a nose job. We have them to better drain your wallet."

Gone!

I rode everywhere today. I rode... to a lot of old apts. mom used to live in. I noticed the Monthly Aspectarian is no longer being published or something... it's no where in Lincoln Square. Well I went everywhere I needed to, to blow steam. I came back and I could tell right away I was going to have a hard time from now on but easier, due to the changes in my life. I don't like to give away many thoughts right now, but I'll tell you... I turn on a phone and BAM then I get all these calls?! It's fine... Care... but no one fucking owns me and gets to call me up telling me I'm their GF and doesn't confirm it with me or rather uses a fear style way of getting me to feel like I am going to just agree and shut up. WTF. I have a better reputation now I'd say. I've been through a whirlwind of shit. God did close a door and open a nice, breezy window though ~ I can say I'm fucking RELIEVED to be alone with my own thoughts. I have so much. So many. No one listens. Yet I'm always the best adviser when needed. I am a fucking wall. I...

...don't exist

My name is still mine. But I'm scaring myself. Who the fuck am I...?

Sugar

Love

I know that you be listenin' out there,


love...

Weak = Me. Me = Weak.

I think it's time I finally let go of all the bullshit. I fucking hate this feeling that is killing me... Why come tease my brain. Why come over period. Why even FUCK with my emotions in the slightest. You know, it's not like I'm going to kill myself or anything. I'm going to kill my soul, a little. No no no that's not right either. You and you and you and you and whoever else is inside of you can go FUCK yourself with a SICK DICK. I hope you go choke on your actions. Choke on you life. Choke on your wrongs. Choke on yourself. Because I can't breathe everytime I see you. I can't think when you're speaking over my thoughts. I can't look at you without disgust and anguish. I CAN'T. I WON'T. You can meet me in the next life. 

GOODBYE.

My Heart Don't Beat FUCK A Heart Throb Feel.

........

Again.

And Again.

And Again.

Till I Am Dead.

I Fucking Hate You.

I Fucking Love You.

I Am Not The Girl You Think I Am...........

Makes Me Feel Better :)