i used to hate it when people copied me. i got territorial because this new girl in elementary school wanted people to call her jess instead of jessica. i was supposed to be the only jess in the whole school. there once was this other girl a few years younger than me whose name also started with a 'j' and she'd copy my clothes, my cellphone, and even the shit i'd say! you can't take someone else's story or joke, make it your own, and not give any credit to the original creator. but now i don't care. i've probably copied someone in one way or another, though not obsessively. but now i just take it as a compliment.

lyrics

my blood boils as my eyes turn green

is this the best of the best of the scene

anyone but him

with schoolboy fists we can take this outside

but knowing my luck that fuck would win

anyone but him

who's gonna take you home

who's gonna take you home if it isn't me?

i feel like dying.

something said so lightly that it doesn't even have any meaning to me anymore. when i say i feel like dying, i really feel like dying. but do i really really feel like dying? or am i just listening to too much weezy? i do have the most druggerific song on repeat right now.

why is it that when i can't do anything, what i want to do most is everything? and why is it that when i have something planned, all i want to do is nothing?

something's wrong with me, or we all feel this way. please tell me it's the latter.

"I Sit and Look Out" by Walt Whitman

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all
oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with
themselves, remorseful after deeds done;
I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying,
neglected, gaunt, desperate;
I see the wife misused by her husband--I see the treacherous seducer
of young women;
I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love, attempted to be
hid--I see these sights on the earth;
I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny--I see martyrs and
prisoners;
I observe a famine at sea--I observe the sailors casting lots who
shall be kill'd, to preserve the lives of the rest;
I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon
laborers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like;
All these--All the meanness and agony without end, I sitting, look
out upon,
See, hear, and am silent.

[image via thesartorialist]