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  <title>*Read my life*</title>
  <subtitle>love is the slowest form of suicide</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>love killed me</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2005-01-31T07:13:48Z</updated>
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    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:blackrainb0w555:17646</id>
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    <title>u dont have to read this, this is just how i feel.</title>
    <published>2005-01-31T07:13:48Z</published>
    <updated>2005-01-31T07:13:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Rejection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all know what it means; the dictionary meaning, that is. But, for the first time, I’ve felt in reality what rejection is. Like barbwire that cuts, intricately with its cultured blades, through the depths of my heart; my love, like everything else I once held dear, is simply a crumbled mass of extinctive alternatives. People ask me why I fear rejection when I’ve never feared rejection. I can never really explain it. Even now, when I want to cry and all that answers is tortured anger and scathing fingernails, I can’t explain it. But this is why; this rejection. It’s my worst nightmare, and fuck, it hurts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is, perhaps, the longest I’ve ever sat gazing in a mirror that I haven’t broken.  The longest I’ve watched my eyeliner run, like oil spills, down my cheeks without raising a finger to brush it away.  This is, by far, the longest I’ve cried, curled in my fetal position seeking comfort that has long vanished.  In front of the imperfect mirror, knees to quivering chest, I stare; and for what I intend to find, sitting here, I do not know.&lt;br /&gt;It’s 3am.  The neon light from my digital alarm clock reflects across the mirror from my muted out background, deftly registering in my mind, though I do not comprehend it.  I know I’ll be sick tomorrow—I always get sick after crying too much; terrible stomach pains, the whole deal.  I’ll probably be in the bathroom the whole day with mom hovering over me, wondering what the hell went wrong.  I always blame menstrual; it never fails.  I wonder if other girls do that, too.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve never really felt like this before, even though I’ve gone through my fair share of relationships, and undoubtedly letdowns.  But letdowns, I’ve learned, come with relationships.  I wonder why people get married; I can’t ever trust anyone, why devote myself to them?  But I didn’t always used to be this way.  No, I was naïve, I was innocent, and fuck, I was happy.  But not anymore.  Reality took its winding road through my heart, my mind, and left ash in its wake.  Sometimes I wish I were eight years old again; that was when boys had cooties. &lt;br /&gt;I’m fingering the bottleneck of a half empty Daniels’; it’s my medicine, my ticket to another world.  It’s always half empty; never full.  There’s a pile under my bed that I’m sure my parents will find when I move out, but by then I’ll have done a lot worse than that.  That even sickens me to think about it, really, but I know I will.  It’s inevitable.  Especially in times like these.&lt;br /&gt;And, as I bring that bottle to my tarred, stained lips, I wish this would take me away.  Every swig, and it doesn’t.  In my world, curled beneath spiteful eyes and sumptuous regret, I can see now why this world is doomed.  This senile fatality. &lt;br /&gt;With every other swig, I wish I would die too.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:blackrainb0w555:10447</id>
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    <title>blackrainb0w555 @ 2004-12-08T04:47:00</title>
    <published>2004-12-08T09:50:32Z</published>
    <updated>2004-12-08T09:50:32Z</updated>
    <lj:music>lollipop lust kill</lj:music>
    <content type="html">omg you wont believe it im so bored ive actually decided to study for my learners but since im a procrastinator (sp?) i had to write in this thing first.. maybe my mom will finally trust me enough to take me and get my learners</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:blackrainb0w555:9748</id>
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    <title>blackrainb0w555 @ 2004-12-08T01:53:00</title>
    <published>2004-12-08T07:02:56Z</published>
    <updated>2004-12-08T07:02:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">i got invited to go to some concert last weekend with megan and brandy i didnt go. they went to a concert that had my chemical romance, breaking benjamin, good charlotte and a bunch of other bands they got like {     } this close to touching benji. ( for those of u who dont know i have an obsession with benji i think he is wayy sexxy) i was so pissed that i didnt go megan told me i should come and that theyre would be good bands but i thouhgt she was talking about local bands cuz her and brandy always go to local bands and i asked her what bands but she went away and i just signed offline. damn im stupid</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:blackrainb0w555:9645</id>
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    <title>blackrainb0w555 @ 2004-12-08T00:14:00</title>
    <published>2004-12-08T05:22:12Z</published>
    <updated>2004-12-08T05:22:12Z</updated>
    <content type="html">everyone thinks im a drug dealer now i had 2 people IM me today and ask me if i could get them stuff. and then tara told me that jerry came up to her today and asked her what happened to me b/c garretson (the skool cop) told him to call me b/c h thought we were still going out and tara told him what happened and he said "woah..... right" whatever the hell thats supposed to mean .. i have a job interview at subway at 1 and then at 4 i have to go meet a parole officer. yippy well i dont have time to write much im kinda busy so ill update more later</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:blackrainb0w555:1201</id>
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    <title>Access Denied</title>
    <published>2004-11-24T06:02:53Z</published>
    <updated>2004-11-24T09:34:15Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v84/blackrainbow555/8a1d_editeda.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;comment to be added ill most likely add you back</content>
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