Oh shit… got the truth phone on line 1… ready for something not so pleasant?
I’m not even sure who I’m calling… I don’t even know what I’m going to say. I just need someone to listen. Someone that will actually listen while I bitch about my life. Can you do that for me? For once? I’m tired and alone. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be so ashamed of who you are? I just… I need to breathe. It’s like I’m suffocating. You’re choking me and I’m fainting head over heels. I think this might be voluntary. I’ve been faking this smile and I’ll keep it going till it’s real. Have you got a story for me to tell? You know I’m the best liar.
I need to feel alive again; I’ve been missing something. This winter is freezing my insides and making me numb. It’s like my novacaine, to make me feel more confident. Hit me. Beat me. I’ve been losing for as long as I can think of. I don’t remember you anymore. Do you even have my screen name on your buddylist? They’re all trying to forget me, all just forget-me regrets. Because you’ll regret this when six feet under is one digit away from a phone call from me to you.
I smell of sloth, envy, and you. All this time I’ve been staring and waiting for you to go away, maybe that could cure this twisted obsession. I love you so much that I lied to you. I care about you so much that I distance myself from you. This two-sided thing isn’t working. I’m trying to tell you something I don’t even understand. I spend so much time over analyzing things that I end up with no knowledge of anything. If you picked me, would you pick me? Pick me up from this six foot ditch I’m locked inside of? I’m no diamond in the sky. I’ve got no “besties” and I’m not so pretty to look at. But can I keep believing that you think I am?
I’m looking through a mirror and finding nothing. Is death staring me in the face? Oh, because I wouldn’t be surprised. I need to cry, but I don’t want anyone to see me. I need to scream, but no one can hear me. Do you hear me anymore? You’re such a liar when I pretend it’s all a facade. And I’m such a fake when I’m breathing. I want to be on stage and tell you I’m sincere. I want to sing until my head turns fuzzy with all these criticisms. Oh, they’ve already got me nauseous. Doctor, Doctor! She’s gone blue and I’m not sure what to say anymore. I don’t want to be a fake anymore.
Less Than Three;
Rikki [loves to pretend she’s a good person]