Ghouls In The Attic

Oversensitivity and paranoia runs in my veins. Till thus now, it has proved to be nothing in vain. Uncovering every deep dark dirty little secret you've tried to keep, I lose a lil of myself. Sometimes I wish the truth would never surface, secrets buried with you in your grave. But I would never be appeased in my death, knowing that truth would be mocking me in your grave. Mock me for my stupidity and foolishness. It beats being mocked by the truth six feet underground.

Though the past haunts me like a ghoul in the attic, it's the present that matters. Or is it?

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I'm okay or so I think. I'm just a lil shaken. But I'll be fine, I'll always be fine till the day I lose it all over again.

And the next person who ask if Weed and I are okay will be shot to death. We are very fine, thankyouverymuch. Not everything on my blog is about her you know, well, almost.

Fort Minor's Where'd You Go makes me cry.

Fucking bullshit, fuck fuck fuck.

"When I wake up, would you still be there?"