The 'I want' phase

It seems I want everything and anything my wide brown eyes can see.

I want the glitz and the glitter
The sequence and diamond
Wrapped around my fingers.
I want to be draped in all the world's riches.

Here I am, down in the pits
Sitting on dirty zebra slips
Bare white walls covered in weed's smutt.

I know the dangers that lay ahead
Haunting me to turn and run

My Inner Workings

See this is the problem with me, I don't think I could ever fully finish a thought.
It's like as soon as I start to develop my thinking process, something automatically diverts it. The sad part is, once I forget what I was doing, I won't ever go back to it. Ever. This is why my blogs are never fully finished. This is why I have SO. MANY. BLOGS. No wonder I never really have people read my shit, it's never a full fucking thought. It's always just rambling. Fucking ramblings man. And it's sad, because my brain is like this all the time. Always working. Always thinking. Neverfuckingending.

Triggers.
Triggers are a funny thing. It could be a look, a smell, a quick little thought that you hardly remember. A trigger can be anything, and as soon as that trigger is pulled it's just a downward spiral from there. As we all know though, where there are triggers there are crutches. I have a lot of crutches, it seems I can't stand on my own. I know we're supposed to crawl before we run, but my brain automatically says, no - screams, "RUN" but when I try to, I can't even manage to move one leg. It's as though I forgot how to crawl. Crutches, a hell of a thing.

MYGod
THERE IS NOTHING FUCKING HOLDING THIS TOGETHER.
^what the fuck does that sentence mean?
My current relationship. Uncertainties a mother f-ing killing.

I wish I could just open up a random person's head just to see and comprehend their thought pattern.
Thought pattern. Process. Thinking...thinking thinking thinking. I'm constantly wondering about this, does anyone else in Blogger land...talk to themselves? Now I know we all probably talk to themselves...but it's more complicated than that.
It's more like when you're alone, thinking, constantly thinking about anything and everything...and out of nowhere it just...stops. You continue on with whatever you were doing, but minutes later, you're talking to yourself. Out loud. And it's not like you're talking to yourself, more like you're...talking to someone. You're probably saying, "Danielle is absolutely bonkers." But God, I really fucking hope not. I was diagnosed Manic/Depressive in 2008/2009...I was on medication...for about a month. I don't like the way they make me feel or act. I don't feel...like me. It's funny, I won't take any prescription drugs, yes I will willingly participate in recreational drugs.

I don't know what I'm trying to get out. I feel like shit. Pure shit and I know exactly why. Oh Triggers, how I loathe you so. Normally when I feel like this I would either fuck someone, get drunk, smoke pot, or beautify my body with a tattoo or piercing. I have none of these. Zero. The boyfriend is so glued to Diablo III that I don't even bother trying to seek attention from him. I stopped drinking alcohol because I have acid reflex, from binge drinking. Weed, we're all out and I'm too fucking broke to walk into a parlor. Awesome. I can't forget, this won't leave my mind.

Isn't it amazing how we can forget so fast about something, yet when it's completely shitty...it never fucking leaves our mind. And even when we've forgotten all about it days later there's still that small scrap of whats left of it. And you know it's there, you just can't find it. Why? because it's matted on the floor of your brain, waiting for you to walk on it. Get stuck to the bottom of your shoe, for you to find later, and remember. That's the constant shitty feeling, at least in my perspective.

I have so much to fucking say, and no one who will listen.
So Blogger, I've turned to you.
Even if no one gives feedback, at least you'll have something to look back on.


I'm 22 years old.
Been living in Florida for a year.
My life is a tornado, randomly throwing shit at people who walk my path.
I need help.

sAiL.

<p>I Finally came across my old Xanga page,&nbsp; but of course,&nbsp; I cannot for the life of me remeber my log in anymore. But the link is here

<p>So, I've recently watched 500 Days Of Summer.First off, let me tell you that it's my second favorite movie of all time...after Where The Wild Things Are of course. =] But anyways.it's funny, for those who've seen this movie will probably understand this.And if i give away the ending, i don't care.I propose a question. What if we were all like Summer?What if we all did what we want, never really taking things seriously, though afraid of all those things we knew about when we were little and believed in so strongly but watched fall apart through our parents?What if we tried to never really get emotionally attached?But one day become someone completely opposite of what we were?I purpose another question.What if Tom was right at the end.What if there weren't any miracles only coincidences?There was no fate or destiny, only chance?I mean....what would the world be like...if we all believed in that instead...instead of these mixed believes between fate and by chance?And what if no one is really ever truly happy with the person they're with?......what if no one, not one single soul, could make another person completely happy? That we just accept the fact that that's just as happy as we'll ever get with being with another person? And that if you truly think that this one person is the best thing to ever happen to you and you're completely devoted to them....that that would make you completely full of shit?Lonleyness would be true happinessMarriage would be lying to yourself.Is it human nature to find that one perfect someone?Or is it unconscious boredom with life?And honestly, what is love?How do you know it's there?You can't see it, but do you really feel it?Or do you just feel those random impulses of god knows what whenever you're with that person? Or is it your mind playing a trick on you?Lust. Lust i understand, it's a feeling. Your body feels it. Guys get hard, girls get wet. The mind wonders with wonderful sexual fantasies.But love. Love I don't quite understand. I love you. It has such great meaning to people, but to me, I don't think it ever did. Love for me is similar to the word Like.&#160;Except a little extra. Timothy Adam Tayson, I love you. I truly do. I honestly don't think you can compare to any other male out there.....would that be love? I don't know. Love is like this fabricated lie made up by people who couldn't quite explain their emotions. Love, the definition will forever change.So I don't get it.What's our purpose?What's the goal we're trying to reach as we grow old?Wealth? Success? Companionship? That person to grow old with? or all of the above?I can say this, 500 Days Of Summer made me want answers to questions I know I'll never find answers to. And for some reason, I'm okay with that.Maybe everything is better off unsaid?</p>

get me out.

Are you fucking kidding me. Balllllllllllssssssaaaaaaaaccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkeeeerrrrrrrrrrrr. Yup. That is all. Boyfriends friends are here. I miss having things that I can call my own...with my time....alone time. I miss notbhaving so
Done up my ass 24/7. I love songs about love but I hate being in love. I live being alone

Just an Ordinary Day

I don't know about you, but I know for me I'm constantly searching for my 'roots' my 'beginnings'. Writing this blog may be an all day event. So. My starts at 4:49 pm in port st. Lucie, Florida on my boyfriends' bed taking bong rips. Off to walmart listening to
Taking back Sunday here's a picture I took in the car.