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ah yes...the journal...yno i really never have anything to type i just usually draw instead...erm.

i used to know this boy, who took notes in a book but he ripped out all the pages befor i got a look. and all the words he scribbled, and all the lines he filled, with the ink stains on his fingers, showd me he was skilled...at capturing an image that most of us just miss...the simple pain of living, with goodbye's n our lips
i found one of the pages, crumpled by his bed....and this is how it read:

its not like i am weak or that i dont know how to leave its just that everytime you cheat you bring me closer to defeat, untill theres nothing left to love, untill theres nothing left to say i know that you need help but even i cant help you from yourself.



i must know the name of the song

ah...my teeth are sore so now i pain... emo