<meta name='google-adsense-platform-account' content='ca-host-pub-1556223355139109'/> <meta name='google-adsense-platform-domain' content='blogspot.com'/> <!-- --><style type="text/css">@import url(https://www.blogger.com/static/v1/v-css/navbar/3334278262-classic.css); div.b-mobile {display:none;} </style> </head><body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar/15880184?origin\x3dhttp://thesweetdeath.blogspot.com', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script> Don't run.



Sunday, January 07, 2007
I'd do just fine without any more deceptions


You had to keep pretending you care. Knowing it's so hard on yourself. Why be? And I have to keep constantly reminding myself that I am not lying to those around. And to myself. I hate it when you do this. I hate it when I reminisce about the stuffs you did, we did. Then I ask myself again, was it true? Were everything you did true? Time and time again, I tried not to think about the possibilities that everything was a lie. That you were, in fact, like all the other boys. No, I keep convincing the loved ones that they were moments of truth and all in the name of love. It's even harder this way. You think like a steel board, I could withstand everything you gave and did. Now I say, I am not. You tried to make it all up, but you know you can't, God knows what's going through your mind, I really don't have a clue. You're doing this now. You are doing it, subconciously or not. Mhmm. With your actions like these, tell me how can I believe that all that past weren't lies. I'm sick of feeling this way. This way you treat me.

It's times like these time and time again.
Fuck.


♥