I use too much of it.

I love color. Why don't I use it?

Durrt.

I'm never using a picture of anyone who doesn't have their face fully visible, ever again. There are too many idiots out there who don't know reality from their own messed up insanity. I'm so sick of idiots claiming it's them. I'm so tired of people saying "that's my friend". NO IT ISN'T. Not unless you know John Sopkowicz. My guess is that most, if not all, of you don't. Stop pretending. Stop the drama. I'm SICK of it. It is MY work of MY exboyfriend that I made with MY own hands in Adobe fucking PhotoDelux A LONG TIME AGO. Get. Over. It. Grow up, and go home. You are not welcome here.

Second best part of the book I have to read, definately not school appropriate. Mr Quick is a little horn dog, I'd say..suggesting these type of books..dear me.

" "Here it?" She whispered. Behind the foliage, a bull-toned voice, and another, this like a guitar, blended as raindrops caress to sound a same rhythm; an intricate wind of rustling murmurs, small laughter followed sighs not sad and silences deeper than space. Moss cushioned their footsteps as they moved through the leafy thickness, and came to pause at the edge of an opening: two Negroes, caught in a filmy skein of moon and fern, lay unclothed and enfolded, the man's caramel colored body braceleted with his darker lover's arms, legs, his lips nuzzling her nipples: oo-we, oo-we, sweet Simon, she sighed, love shivering her voice, love rolling through her like thunder; easy, Simon, sweet Simon, easy honey, she crooned, and tensed then, her arms lifting as if to embrace the moon; her lover sank across her, and there toghether, limbs askimbo, they made on the bloom of moss a black fallen star. "

I waited for you
I died inside my own head
And I'd die again for you

I'm faded and tired
Completely uninspired
And I'd die again for you

So kill me with the love that you won't give to me
And pack the wound with salt I want to feel it bleed

I'm searching for reasons
To keep away the demons
And I'd die again for you
I wish you were near me
Could feel it when you hear me say
I'd die again for you

So kill me with the love that you won't give to me
And pack the wound with salt I want to feel it bleed
You wanted me to crawl so now i'm on my knees

Why's it always have to be me
That's always left out to burn and
I'll never learn

-Smile Empty Soul / For You

Wow..this book just went from being the crappiest in the world to one of my top ten most awesome just by this one sentence alone:

Joel went all hollow inside; he thought he was going to wee wee right there in his breeches, and he wanted to hop up and run, just has he had at Jesus Fever's.

...oh wow