Hang on, wait, that wasn't how I wanted to start this update.
Um, not that I really knew how I'd want to start this one at all- just that, I wanted to write something really heartfelt, without ranting or complaining/bitching about someone. Like how earlier, it was just "venting" not bitching. Bullshiiiiiiit I can smell.
But no, that wasn't want I wanted to speak about, either.
Oh, the music just stopped. Okay, new song. I'm listening to Sean Smith's DJ mixes - part of me thinks he's trying to hard to be Ian Watkins, another part of me thinks he's just being a fan boy. I mean, I've known people who follow in their idols footsteps, by taking up dancing like them, photography like them.. jewellery making like them.
Okay, okay, too far.
I had a really good conversation with Aaron earlier. About how much things have changed since we've been together. We got together in February, when I was still close with Emma and went up to see her. Now that's changed. We also used to go out religiously every friday night, 7pm at Fisher. With everyone. That changed pretty suddenly. We used to do jackshit at school and pass with flying colours, that's definitely not around any more!
People used to be two-faced. There's none of that now.
Oh, wait, no, it's still there. There's always gonna be two-faced people.
I guess I can be a bit two-faced at times. Things some people do irk me to high hell, but I'll still be polite and nice to them. Is this being two-faced? It may just be seen as politeness, but no, it is two-facedness. I know a lot of people that do this. Pretend. Maybe we're just good at that.
I know this is a bad conversation topic - or killer, if you want - but I've been thinking a lot about death lately. About what exactly happens once you're gone. But, then again, you can't think when it comes to that, because you're just lying dead in the ground. But you're not lying down, either, because you can't feel it. And you're not being eaten by maggots, because you can't feel it. Oh fuuuuuck, now I've gotten that weird feeling in my stomach I get when I think about this. It makes it hard to sleep.
How can people speak of death so easily, when they don't know what it is?
We're all scared of it, I know. But what about those people who die prematurely, or commit suicide? Do they know what they've let themselves in for?
Truth is, no one knows. Not even an immortal person would know, cause they'd have never experienced death.
The only person that knows is Captain Jack Harkness!
Now that was a conversation killer.
Ugh, kill. Fuck. Shut up, Lem.
Toodles everyone.
xo.
ps. I blame Alex for this blog post.
