simply confess

confess

Sade Adu is a good singer. I always thought that Smooth Operator was a song she wrote after she had sex or something

Ryan Osborne from Texas Christian University is a fucking asskisser. And I will say it to his face.

Je n’aurais jamais cru qu’on en arriverait la… tu etais tout pour moi… il ya tellement de choses que je ne t’ai jamais dite au fond… comment je nous voyais dans quelques annees… tu sais, je voulais que tu sois forte… je voulais eviter que tu passes par tellement de choses… tu n’as jamais voulu mecouter.. parce que tu savais que je serais toujours la au final… mais mnt? voila.. je ne le suis plus.. cest pas parce que je ne veux plus mais cest comme ca… on a ete poussees a bout… et c’est comme ca…
tu sais, je t’imaginais meme marraine de mes gosses… je me disais que je serais tellement fiere de toi a ce moment la, que ca serait juste un beau moyen de te le montrer…
bon, jy crois toujours… enfin, je sais que un jour tu iras mieux… et que tu regarderas en arriere et te dira que cetait stupide… je le sais.. je suis passee par la… jai appris ma lecon, je te laisse faire tes erreurs… mais c’est juste que ca mattriste de savoir que ce jour la, je ne serais pas la pour te voir enfin bien… parce que tu le merites… tout le monde merite detre heureux, et tu es comme tout le monde… faut juste que tu vois ca..
tu ne sauras pas que jai poste ca ici.. tant mieux… je me suis eloignee, j’en avais besoin d’ailleurs au final et c’est ce que tu voulais et de toute facon tu nas pas lair de vraiment le remarquer donc cest tant mieux… personne nest indispensable, et je suis personne….
je ne sais pas pourquoi jai ecrit ca… probablement que quand je pense a il ya 1 an, des tas de souvenirs resurgissent et cest bizare de voir comment certaine choses finissent par tourner.. mais voila, moi je sui heureuse… jespere que tu l’est aussi…

Mannn khalsouné ca arrive!!! Kelo sha2fé! 2arraftouné w er.

I am a 30 year old woman and I finally lost my virginity this past Saturday. It was nice and didn’t hurt. The guy I was with made me feel comfortable. It felt really nice to have him inside of me. I’m looking forward to having sex with him again.

I have a lot to say.. I don’t feel good with you, you don’t make me happy. You don’t understand me. When we talk, it’s like I’m speaking chinese to you. You don’t understand my sadness, my pain, you can’t understand that. You’re strong and you’ve always been. I’m not. I don’t think you’re in love with me. I think I am, though.. But you know, last day I watched a movie and they were talking about relationships that click. That “SHE’s the one!” feeling.. I’m not feeling that with you. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since my last partner. Maybe it’s because I’m not who I used to be.. But that excitement, that passion, I think it faded.. I’m so afraid to tell you that, I’m so afraid to tell you I’m crying right now. We talk about everything boring, never about serious stuff. I know you’d laugh at me if we did. I really want things to work between us but I’m soooo fucking tired. What we’re going through is so hard, physically and mentally. I don’t know.. I don’t wana lose you, though. You mean a lot to me, and I want to protect you. It’s like you’re this fragile little thing I have to take care of. I miss you. I’m lost.. I don’t know. I don’t know if you love me, I think I do so I’m gona say it here, you won’t see it. I love you.

in places no one will find all your feelings so deep inside, it was then that i realized that forever was in your eyes…the moment i saw you cry!

Tu me manque . Apparament mon absence ne te fais rien comme une etrangere tu m a saluer et meme pas parler .
Pour une fois j aimerais que tu fasses le pas me dire que je te manque mais apparament tu m a vite remplacee et oublier.
Maraine de mes enfants j ai toujours voulu que tu le sois …. J espere un jour tu reviendra et que tu te souviendra de tous ces moments passes
De tous nos fou rire …. J ai t e dis je serais toujours la pour toi mais tu n es pas la .

On est toutes les deux tres, tres fatiguees. J’en peu plus, toi non plus d’ailleurs. J’ai peur, tu t’en fou. Je t’avai promi de te proteger man shu sar? I failed you.. C’est fou comme une seule personne peut ravager des vies, c’est vraiment effrayant. Seni seviyorum*

- TTSP

Don’t you hear sincerity in my voice when i talk?
Told you this is my fault, look me in the eyeball
Next time i’m pissed I’ll aim my fist at the drywall
Next time there won’t be no next time

my best friend keeps stealing my boyfriends. She has stolen my pas5, but what bugs me is that now, now im in love and i dont want her ruining everything what should i do </3

my best friend keeps stealing my boyfriends. She has stolen my pas5, but what bugs me is that now, now im in love and i dont want her ruining everything what should i do </3

I don’t know what time it is when I wake, drenched in sweat, my skin crawling, alternating chills, gut wrenching nausea. I’m holding back bile rising in the back of my throat. My insides are twisting, churning, burning. My skin is ice cold and fiery hot at the same time. Every bone in my pathetic, tattered body is aching as if I’d been kicked down a flight of stairs and then kicked some more. I’m wishing I never woke up. Keeping my eyes shut, I pray, beg for the sweet release of unconscious bliss. It does not come. I feel the consequences of my choices weighted heavily in the pit of my stomach. I can’t move, the agony is too much. I give in. With what little strength I have, I grasp desperately for my phone and dial the devil. He answers, waiting for my call, ready to welcome me back into his dark embrace.

I never believed this would happen to me. I thought I could date the devil and not fall in love. I could never have been more wrong. He seduced me into his deathly grip, with pure perfect bliss, until I could not walk away. If I tried to leave him, he would turn on me in the cruelest of ways, making me suffer until I returned to him, defeated and half dead. I tried to walk away many times, but always ended up back in his arms. The devil is the cruelest of lovers.

I am a heroin addict.

My life, my existence, has become a complete facade, a show I put on for my family and friends, and oh what an amazing actress I have become. I would win an academy award for my performance. I am an exemplary student, somehow still able to pull A’s and B’s in my college classes while being strung out every day for the last nine months. At work, I am one of their most valuable employees, always cheerful, upbeat, and hardworking. No one knows about my devilish affair.

It was a dark and depressing time in my life when I met the devil. I was battling the depression and suicidal thoughts that have plagued me since a young age. I was alone and desperate after getting out of a two and a half year long physically and mentally abusive relationship. I was always the damaged girl with daddy issues that wound up with the wrong guy. True to myself, I, once again, ended up with the wrong guy. His dark, mysterious personality drew me in. His sadness was beautiful, like mine. The beauty that emerges from tragedy is like no other beauty in this world. It is powerful, attractive, and repelling at the same time. He would be the one to introduce me to the devil itself.

I begged him to make the pain stop. At first, he refused, swore he’d never let me use. I cried, pleaded, and threatened him with my life. I wanted to fill the hole in my heart, not only fill it, but not even feel it. Eventually, he gave in and at two o clock in the morning, on a friend’s couch in Ocean Beach, I gave myself over to the numb nothingness. It was too good. I imagined myself a beautiful disaster and I didn’t care about anything anymore. I thought I was in control. I thought I could beat the devil, but he swept me right off my feet. I never considered myself an addict, the people who lost control. I swore I would never be one of them. Then it happened, once turned into twice and twice turned thrice and once was too many but a thousand was never enough.

So here I am now, strung out, scared, defeated. The last of my stash consumed earlier this evening to keep me well at work. I could call the devil, I know he is waiting, but I resist. I know what tomorrow will bring. I will be punished for my actions, in the worst way imaginable, withdrawals. I have been truly, deathly ill a few times in my life, but nothing compares to the living hell of heroin withdrawals. Unless you have personally experienced this waking nightmare, you have no idea and nothing compares to it.

First I will sleep, for a very long time. I will not be able to keep myself awake no matter what I do. That is the first symptom. That is the easy part, you feel nothing and you are unconscious, it is waking up after your long sleep that one fears. I will want to die when I wake up. I may very well beg for death, but it won’t come. This is my punishment, I deserve it. When I wake, my body will be aflame and frozen at the same time. Shivering in my cold sweat, unable to lay still, writhing in pain. My body will begin the purge, bile will rise in my throat, burning and stinging its way up. My intestines twist and churn like I’ve been poisoned, I will stumble to the toilet just in time to empty anything and everything in me. My limbs will pop and crack with every movement, feeling like every bone in my body has been dislocated. I’ll drag myself back to bed, unable to sleep now, fully conscious of every wave of shuddering withdrawal.

I feel everything.

My feelings are back, with a vengeance. For every time I numbed myself and ran from them, they waited to make their vicious return with a hundred times their normal force.

All of this torture, this dreadful, sickening experience will be all mine for the next five days. It won’t be over after that either, it could take months to get the neurotransmitters in my brain back to normal. The devil doesn’t let you go without a good fight.

I’m hoping, praying that I can do this. I want to be free. I want to be sober. I want to make it through this. I have to. I cannot let my mother down. I don’t care about letting anyone else down in the entire world, but not her. She has no idea, I am too good at appearing sober when actually my entire world is melting around me as we speak. You would never know.

I’m praying to God to release me from the devil’s grasp. Praying for forgiveness. Take me back. I am sorry, I am so sorry for running from the problems that now pale in comparison to the seriousness and gravity of my new, life threatening, dilemma. My own will power and God’s grace are my only hope. No insurance, no money for rehab. No one to ask for help. My mother would disown me, she wouldn’t help me, she’d wash her hands of me. We’ve always had a strained relationship and this would be the final straw for her.

God help me.

j’aime un garçon bizarre et je suis toujours con avec lui

J’aurais jamais cru qu’un jour j’allais t’apprécier… et que j’allais meme envie d’etre avec toi pour passer du bon temps
O.