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Description
To who it may concern,

My passion in this worthless life is my music. Let me make that perfectly clear. Nothing else matters. Without it I’m dead. Six feet under.
Every day is the same. You wake up, shower, dress yourself, take all the bullsh*t people serve you the 8 long hours you’re here and somehow manage to stay sane enough for you to remember who the frick you are. At the end of my usually f**ked up day, I grab the closest hardcore metal CD I can find, and blast the volume. Head bang till you die.
Who cares what people say? They’re all ignorant, narrow-minded sheep in the end, whereas I’m the grass they graze upon. They can tear me apart as much as they want, but I grow back faster than they think. Its so completely amusing to watch them try to make me feel like a loser. I always come back the next day, crazier than I was before.
At home (oh what a lovely place that is) I have a couple dogs. Both of them golden retrievers. I could really care less about them. But then again I could really care less about anything, really. Home itself sucks. Nothing ever goes right. Another rule of life, I suppose. Blah, blah, blah, pity me. The drama is like rape. It follows you until you’re completely alone and/or innocent…then it takes you by the throat and makes you scream for mercy. Once it’s had its sick, twisted pleasure, it leaves you. Rot and die, it murmurs in your ear. The only choice you have is to screw yourself even more, before finally taking your own life. So many choices: cutting/bleeding, OD, dieting…thank god I live in America. Freedom of death.
I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy…
People made me this way. You made me this way. Whether you realize it or not, you did. You took me and tore me in half. So now I’m left to sew myself shut again and let these lame scars heal. I can honestly say, I hate you all. Dare I choke on this last breath, or make it last forever?
Back to the subject of music. My favorite bands are the following: Three Days Grace, Element 80, Slipknot, As I Lay Dieing, HIM, AFI…and a bunch of others. I don’t feel like naming them all because my life blows and I’m brain dead. Do you mind? Course not.
I write poetry/prose, if it matters at all. Personally, I hate it all. I post my junk of this site called DeviantART. Some people seem to like it. Most of it’s my insane ranting. I know my parents hate my “work”. They think I’m tryin’ to stir up sh*t with my words. Whatever, man. I write what I feel. Nothing more, nothing less. I hate the world anyway. It’s every man from himself.
So now you almost know what it’s like to be in my head. To wake up and know I’m one day closer to being so utterly forgotten. Not that I’m noticed anyway. Big whup. All of you can bow down and kiss my feet. Trust is a thing of the past. These days it’s just lies and deception.
This is me. Sarah. I am who I am, and you wont ever change me. I’m not gonna wear a friggin’ mask anymore. Either you like me or you don’t. I could really care less.
The End.

My sincerest apologies,

Sarah

Description
To who it may concern,

My passion in this worthless life is my music. Let me make that perfectly clear. Nothing else matters. Without it I’m dead. Six feet under.
Every day is the same. You wake up, shower, dress yourself, take all the bullsh*t people serve you the 8 long hours you’re here and somehow manage to stay sane enough for you to remember who the frick you are. At the end of my usually f**ked up day, I grab the closest hardcore metal CD I can find, and blast the volume. Head bang till you die.
Who cares what people say? They’re all ignorant, narrow-minded sheep in the end, whereas I’m the grass they graze upon. They can tear me apart as much as they want, but I grow back faster than they think. Its so completely amusing to watch them try to make me feel like a loser. I always come back the next day, crazier than I was before.
At home (oh what a lovely place that is) I have a couple dogs. Both of them golden retrievers. I could really care less about them. But then again I could really care less about anything, really. Home itself sucks. Nothing ever goes right. Another rule of life, I suppose. Blah, blah, blah, pity me. The drama is like rape. It follows you until you’re completely alone and/or innocent…then it takes you by the throat and makes you scream for mercy. Once it’s had its sick, twisted pleasure, it leaves you. Rot and die, it murmurs in your ear. The only choice you have is to screw yourself even more, before finally taking your own life. So many choices: cutting/bleeding, OD, dieting…thank god I live in America. Freedom of death.
I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy…
People made me this way. You made me this way. Whether you realize it or not, you did. You took me and tore me in half. So now I’m left to sew myself shut again and let these lame scars heal. I can honestly say, I hate you all. Dare I choke on this last breath, or make it last forever?
Back to the subject of music. My favorite bands are the following: Three Days Grace, Element 80, Slipknot, As I Lay Dieing, HIM, AFI…and a bunch of others. I don’t feel like naming them all because my life blows and I’m brain dead. Do you mind? Course not.
I write poetry/prose, if it matters at all. Personally, I hate it all. I post my junk of this site called DeviantART. Some people seem to like it. Most of it’s my insane ranting. I know my parents hate my “work”. They think I’m tryin’ to stir up sh*t with my words. Whatever, man. I write what I feel. Nothing more, nothing less. I hate the world anyway. It’s every man from himself.
So now you almost know what it’s like to be in my head. To wake up and know I’m one day closer to being so utterly forgotten. Not that I’m noticed anyway. Big whup. All of you can bow down and kiss my feet. Trust is a thing of the past. These days it’s just lies and deception.
This is me. Sarah. I am who I am, and you wont ever change me. I’m not gonna wear a friggin’ mask anymore. Either you like me or you don’t. I could really care less.
The End.

My sincerest apologies,

Sarah