goodnews4pplwholovebad

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Morbi eu bibendum justo. Aliquam erat.
2E34/78 DEUS

Past

Tincidunt TBA
Ultricies Ultricies,
Congue Nisl
2026

Vestibulum-Vitae
Auctor Ipsum,
Dictumst Ligula,
Porta Libero
2024

Suspendisse
Molestie Aenean,
Facilisis Tellus,
Porta Libero
2024

There’s something really jarring and performative about sharing words you wrote lifetimes ago but

who cares if they’re embarrassing? who cares about being perceived! who cares to read your words!!!

privacy is dead and the entire world becomes curated even in silence, reflecting a specific time + version of yourself

its a performance no matter what

how can i achieve all that i want to experience, if i refuse to be perceived?

how do i find what all i desire, if i do not align myself with who i am ---- rather than trying to receive the approval of others?

i find comfort within myself, and my old words, sending young PeaCh a hug and reminder that i am here for her when she arrives

below, the original introduction to a compilation that spans over a decade in chronological order. the words found near the bottom were born from an 18 year old’s mind. desktop version to view properly.

the following words are entirely fictional, but if you find comfort in them, i hope you find them no less real

“BURN IN HELL”
IM CERTAIN YOU USE ME TO REMIND
YOURSELF THAT YOU CAN FEEL
FOR DAYS YOU ARE
WANDERING
CHOKING
SCARED
YOU CAN MAKE SENSE OF MY ANGER & SCORN
more THAN YOU CAN UNDERSTAND
YOURSELF.

please stop (STOP).

“BURN IN HELL”
IM CERTAIN YOU USE ME TO REMIND
YOURSELF THAT YOU CAN FEEL
FOR DAYS YOU ARE
WANDERING
CHOKING
SCARED
YOU CAN MAKE SENSE OF MY ANGER & SCORN
more THAN YOU CAN UNDERSTAND
YOURSELF.

please stop (STOP).

“BURN IN HELL”
IM CERTAIN YOU USE ME TO REMIND
YOURSELF THAT YOU CAN FEEL
FOR DAYS YOU ARE
WANDERING
CHOKING
SCARED
YOU CAN MAKE SENSE OF MY ANGER & SCORN
more THAN YOU CAN UNDERSTAND
YOURSELF.

please stop (STOP).

“Hey” 2017
(Pause) A world stepped out, a gentle hug,

a gentle touch, and “I’m sorry”

I’m sorry for all the hurt, I’m sorry for

the mean words, the ill thought actions.

Stepped out, paused, a tight hug and plea

of forgiveness

Just how stupid are we all, selfish and

20 and confused

I am sorry to all, and I’m sorry to me

*crazy bitch*

My heart pounds, and flips and gets

caught in my throat. How easy would it

be if I just choked.

“I’m sorry” we would all say in

a world paused.

I believe

“Contingency Plans” 2018

Do not get tattoos!!!
Do Not drink
Do not fuck
TURN PHONE OFF
Go. Home.
DO NOT FUCK
Stop feeling lonely
Get your ass home & cry thru it
No talking to anyone
No tweeting
No fucking allowed
Do your HW
No smoking plz

“BURN IN HELL” 2017

IM CERTAIN YOU USE ME TO REMIND
YOURSELF THAT YOU CAN FEEL
FOR DAYS YOU ARE
WANDERING
CHOKING
SCARED
YOU CAN MAKE SENSE OF MY ANGER & SCORN
more THAN YOU CAN UNDERSTAND
YOURSELF.

please stop (STOP).

“april 7th 2014”

I see people glancing at me throughout the day; I'm not sure if I'm being overly sensitive or if people are waiting for me to crack. There's only one thought that goes through my head constantly
He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead he's really dead he is dead

again and again and again like a heartbeat, like the string of thoughts is alive on its own and is pulsing throughout my body. It's so loud, sometimes I'll just shut my eyes, in the classroom, at home, in my car. It's like with every beat this poisonous needle stabs my heart, but only to leave it numb after the split second. With every beat, I'm re-realizing the fact that he is gone

If anyone is wondering why im writing this publicly online, its because the internet is my family, and my friends; my world where I would go due to the lack of human interaction irl. Where our friendship blossomed after summer camp. Two lonely teens, major depression, facebook... we kept talking. Phone calls, facebook, skype. Never texting. I REMEMBER we talked so much on the phone, and I mean like 8 hour conversations, my mom would get SO mad. Back in the house phone era. My entire music taste was built by this one boy. Our demons were a perfect fit, and we would catch each other.

It was like a mistimed merry go round, us two. there was this one blissful time when we both were just so invested in our friendship, i didnt care that i didnt have anyone else in my life. it didnt matter no one wanted to talk to me, people thought i was weird, people mocked me, made a hit list on me, always treated me like an obligation instead of a friendship. because no matter how bad things got, i could always just curl up, turn on my computer, facebook, messages and type "hey".

i dont think dating was ever really in our agenda either. we both had this idea of getting together and time would just stop. i can hear his voice, feel his hair. he is so tall its ridiculous. we went through these stupid cycles where he needed me more than i needed him, then i needed him more than he needed me. yet through it all, we still needed each other.

we got worse. every year, our demons got stronger. frantic midnight calls, desperate pleas to run away. counting down to graduation when we could finally make plans to meet up. i never got the chance to see him in person, to hug him, to hold his hand, to look into his eyes - without the help of a webcam.

I think the reason why I could never get serious with a boy, invest completely into, or be wrapped around their fingers was because i was already gone, wrapped around his finger.

Do not get me wrong though, our relationship was so complex. He and I were never boyfriend girlfriend material. We had so many falling outs, so many periods where we didnt talk or treated each other terribly, its amazing we always came back to each other. like guppies swimming around in circles forever.I hate how eulogies speak the best in people even if its not realistic, like let the people be remembered for who they were. We didnt give each other the right amount of time or effort, but I knew I would always go back no matter what he did. It was beyond a friendship or a relationship.

A desperate plea, in the night. Senior year, my mental capabilities fading, my walls crumbling, my facade that I had built a castle on on the verge of capsizing. In February we entered the next cycle of talking once again, but we were different people. It was formal, it was cold. but underneath we knew that it would only take time to heat up again. But even still, even with it being cold due to time, something was different. He wasnt just mistreated, he was dark. He didnt have an anchor. Even with it being cold, an instinct, i dont know, knew I had to get him so after we talked we decided we were dating. February, 2014, I got my third boyfriend. It was wrong though and we knew it, but it was for him.It felt weird but I knew I had time to warm things up. He made plans to visit me AFTER FIVE YEARS OF NOT SEEING HIM IN PERSON I COULD FINALLY MEET HIM FOR MY BIRTHDAY

he never came. said he had work

A few weeks passed, this week. monday. april 7th 2014. and i still dont believe it.

Going back through our old messages, i stumbled upon the conversation we had after Dylan passed. Him comforting me, telling me how to move on how fucking ironic. he probably thinks its somewhat poetic, or movie like how he went.

I saw the boy who I grew up with, wither away like a cancer patient from his own mind. we fought hard against the darkness. I dont know. there are too many maybes in this scenario. maybe if i drove the 11 hours. maybe if i pestered. maybe if i told someone. maybe if I didn’t give him permission. maybe if i dont know. there were many important people in his life, and i think he had that ability to make people need him. to me, he was the biggest, single most important person in my life. im not saying it was mutual at all, because even during our era of bliss i got the feeling i was never enough.

The worst part is, besides remembering it constantly is that I dont get a chance to grieve. school, scholarships, school.

i feel like i lost a limb and i dont know what to do. im stuck in the same hour i found out he shot himself

Maecenas
Aliquam tincidunt quam, 495867

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우리 뽀뽀할까? <(^.^<) (>^.^)> are we gonna kiss?

우리 뽀뽀할까? <(^.^<)
(>^.^)> are we gonna kiss?