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Den of the dramatic [entries|friends|calendar]
Queens of Drama

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[2/ 23/ 2004 ]

[ mood | acting the part. ]

and perhaps i'm dramatic in a way i shouldn't be. dwelling on those things i view wrong with myself; worrying when others can see through a persona i put on. & maybe i shouldn't freak out as much as i do.. allow life to run it's course. allow things to be imperfect. but the truth is i need to feel this way to live off of the pity. i need to feel lower than everyone so there's still room to grow. i am a leech; taking as much of you before being thrown off... waiting to find someone else to attach myself too.

(why is it that while i believe everything subjective i still view the things i do as objectively wrong?)


So... [2/ 1/ 2004 ]

[ mood | cheerful ]

I joined this community quite some time ago, and have yet to indulge my drama.

I have plenty of it.

I think I may hate men in general, and my "boyfriend" specifically. Then again, sharing your "boyfriend" with his ex-girlfriend can do that. I suppose it's only fair, I'm his ex-girlfriend too...but I came first, damnit, and I had his goddamn child.

All my relationships seem to turn out like this though.

If they don't completely fuck it up, I will do something like run off and sleep with someone else to end things.

I can't really decide whether it's because I get bored with everything going right, or if it's just pre-emptive defensiveness. (I'm good at that.)

I seem only to like the boys that don't like me. I enjoy the angst, I think, more than actual relationships....relationships are complicated. Angst is simple. And familiar.

Plus...men are stupid.

I was feeling entirely suicidal and doing nothing but watching cartoons with my daughter all day...then I chopped off all my hair in a moment of high drama....

The boy in question adores my hair. I thought I'd piss him off as much as he's pissed me off. Then, of course, I felt immediately terrified that he'll no longer find me attractive.

This morning, I woke up and decided I didn't really give a shit what he thinks.

I have sexy hair now. I will go pick up some other poor male to adore, ego-stroke, love, and ultimately destroy.

I shall go now...I possess the ability to laugh at myself, and I feel the need to do so rising up.


1 hissy fits||Throw

realizations of the worst kind [1/ 25/ 2004 ]

[ mood | cut&paste ]

realization 1. my unconcious mission:

i will not let anyone leave me before i get the chance to fuck it all up for the both of us. so what if i'll be left alone? i do get a kick off feeling lonely. i do enjoy the misery. sometimes i wonder if i have a bit of the midus touch curse,; everyone i get close to is forced to leave. i've decided to enter friendships and break it before it breaks me. i will not be hurt by someone else again. i am the only one allowed that privilage.

realization 2. the lie of how fast time flies:

suicide isn't that big a deal, it just effects me the same way my dad's death effected me. i feel like i'm missing something from my life, although the death is easy to accept. the dying part doesn't matter, it's just the hole that forms in you after that person is gone that does.. the small death you feel when that person is gone, reminding you of your own mortality. of how short life can be and how quickly it can all leave you. it is that death that tells you not to hope for anything more than today, and not even that. time is shorter than we think. we can feel time creep up on us, and even that is a false interpretation of how fast it can all pass by. maybe that's why i was so willing to let it all go, and why now i realize that i can live a few more years... it'll go by so fast anyway.


[8/ 19/ 2003 ]

This is a community dedicated to sharing the ongoing drama of your life. If you're a sick fuck who keeps misery close and destroys everything important, you belong. Feel free to stop by and comment, or join up and post. Gossip about the scenes you create, and the things you demand, or fuck up. I know us dramaqueens are dying to talk, that's what it's all about: being public. So attentionwhores of the world unite and admit it: you get off on depression. Garbage was singing straight to you.

If you join up, feel free to add suggestions for interests. If you join up, and don't play nice, I'll ban your ass. But most people play nice, so don't fret (or do: you're good at it anyhow).
2 hissy fits||Throw

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