Ten Hundred Reasons

that word finding thing.

happinessisinevitable:

ericaeatssocks:

Crush. Malice. Kick.

That word finding thing that everyone did, kind of worries me. Because I got to thinking. Maybe the three words that stood out to you most show your personality. And if that is the case, I think I may be kind of violent.

Crush. Malice. Kick.

Those three words keep running over and over in my head, becoming one big, evil word like crumack or something. Now I feel as if I am a bad person who has done bad things, even though deep down I know I’m not.

Crush. Malice. Kick.

These words better get the fuck out of my head before I beat the shit out of them… Oops, more violence, eh?

Crush. Malice. Kick.

Crush. Fool. Kiss.

Yeah, that describes me pretty well. Crush is what I do. Fool is what I am. Kiss is what I want.

As for you, Erica, I wouldn’t worry about it.

Think of crush as having a crush.

Think of Malice as… well, there’s really no other way you can think of it. But it can be true, half way. You want to hurt people who’ve hurt you. It’s how you are. It’s how everybody is.

As for kick, see it as a temporary, often obsessive interest. Like, if you’re on a Boys Like Girls kick right now.

Here’s another reason: I would never do this for someone else. I’m in capable of being a good friend.

It’s what I want, or nothing at all. Maybe that’s way when things like this happen, none of my friends seem to be there for me. They’re only around when I’m in a good, happy mood, because I do the same thing to them. I would never spend my time trying to think or find anything that might make them feel better. I haven’t even perfected the remedy of making myself feel better. I only think of me. Me. Me. What do I want? How can helping her, help me?

You have no idea how much I respect you for this, and how much I wish I could do things like this, too.

Fuck fuck fuck shit

What the hell is my problem?

I ruined everything I had going for myself with- guess what- a lie. Shocker, right? I doubt it surprises most anyone, really.

It hurts. I want him back. Well, hell, I want to know if I lost him first. He isn’t speaking to me. It’s been an hour, and I already feel so empty inside.

Here’s a reason: I lost him, all because I wanted him to think I was better than I was, when he already thought I was great as I was. I’m such an idiot.

<3

I’m gonna make this work, I swear. I’m not gonna mess this up, if it’s the only thing I ever do.

You’re making me change my ways. It’s been so long since I’ve lied. You make me want to tell the truth. You make the truth good enough, I think. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I couldn’t even lie up such a great feeling. The way your hands feel when linked with mine. The touch of your lips. The sweet smile on your face, directed at me. The sound of my name on your lips. Zoey. You make me sound like such a sweet girl.

I was originally only going to fill this blog up with reasons you wish you weren’t me. Well, here’s at least one to wish you were.

I have him.

I really hate it,

when people pretend to be stupid. It drives me off the wall. It’s like, come on, we KNOW you aren’t that dumb. We’re not that dumb ourselves. We know that you have the common sense to do the most simplest of tasks.

Here’s another reason to not want to be me: In spite of hating it when other’s pretend to be stupid, I do it myself around him. It’s just him, that one guy, the one who holds my heart and mind, but still. I’m such a hypocrite. I hope people can see past that. I’m starting to hope people don’t see me for who I am. I hope they totally mistake me for a nice girl, worth their time.

Another day, another reason:

I feel like my whole life has been a lie. It seems like everything I ever knew about myself, about my life, my family, who I was is wrong. Like I’d judged everything wrong. I don’t feel like the girl I think I truly am; that I’m supposed to be. The problem is I don’t know who I feel like now. I don’t know anything about myself anymore.

Today’s reason is

I always swear I’ll change my ways, but I never do. 

I promised myself yesterday I wouldn’t tell any lies. For just one whole day. It didn’t work. I went for about two hours before I just had to. It wasn’t even a needed lie. I just lied for the hell of it. It didn’t make me sound cooler, it didn’t achieve anything at all. Really. It was pointless. 

I think I may just be addicted to lying. It’s not a good quality to have. I lie for the rush of it, I guess. Knowing someone could find me out is kind of exciting. Maybe I just lie because I wish the lies were true. I wish I was that girl. Or maybe I lie because it’s what I’m used to. I don’t do honesty. It’s not me.

I have an idea of a different way to go about this. Instead of promising not to lie, today was goal is to tell at least ten truths. 

Today you wish you weren’t me because

I’m full of bull shit. I’m a liar. My head is just full of lies that just roll off my tongue at random moments, most of the time I don’t even need to lie. I just do. I don’t want to say for fun, but that’s the direction it’s headed in. I just want people to think I’m cooler than I am, I guess. And it works. Even my best friends believe me. All four of them just eat it all up, think it’s all 100% true.

Once I tell a lie, I feel like it just becomes true. I’m starting to feel like the person that used to only exist in my elaborate lies. I’m the girl who isn’t afraid to cuss in front of her mom, the girl who isn’t afraid of some bitch who thinks she knows it all. I’m the girl with smart retorts, with a hard punch. I’m the girl who’s turned down countless guys, only because I had my eyes on something higher, more worthy of my wishes. I’m the girl who’s gone all the way. I’m the girl with all the experience, the one who knows everything. I’m the girl with the cool older brother who doesn’t think she’s annoying, but cool, the awesome guy friends that are obviously totally in love with me. I’m the girl who’s smart, and popular as well.

I’m the girl who lies, and needs to stop before it gets out of hand.

I’m entertaining the idea

of throwing something at the wall really, really, really hard. And the worse part is, I know this isn’t her fault. I did this to myself.

Your first reason.

I mess everything up.