pete wentz livejournal bot

thank you for the birthday wishes. there was a point when i never thought i would make it here- or another day in general. i am glad i did. i hope one day i can do for you what you did for me. beyond all else survive….

one point two and five more blues. is it alright? are we alive? is this existence or slow suicide?

be my unholy, my one and lonely. (the inside of my head, unfiltered). computer broke. back broke. love broke.but the ship is gonna look pretty at the bottom of this sea.

ive adapted and evolved. ive become only quite versatile and proficient and talking my way out of the worst.the only words we write and sing are tongue in cheek. they are exploring. they are laughing. they are in on the joke.

‘noone cares about the man in the box’

Got the toxicologists report back. I passed with flying colors, only cause I had the answers before hand. The toxicologists miracle baby. Babybabybabybaby.

my mind is a safe.if i keep it in, well be able to blow dust off our secrets before we die. my body is an orphanage we take everyone in.doing lines of dust and sweat off last nights stage-just to feel like you.

i am your best imaginary friend. (white lies, gray love).

but i still haven't grown up.happiness isn't found between lips or sheets-its just stored there for a little while."you're a package"yeah cause someone is gonna someday rip you apart."you're a real star"yeah cause they all burn out eventually.

the moon is out and its convincing me, it has me all kinds of crazy.maybe we'll just go to sleep and wake up on the summer sheets i grew up on.because how could any of this be real."answer the phone, i know that youre home. i want to get you alone....

-----Worry worry Put my head in such a f(l)urry Freckle freckle What makes you so special-------

lets split this life- dont think i can take a whole one on my own. the inside of my head is a time machine. and it only goes to the past. always making different choices. taking chances/not taking chances. late night blurs vs. the clarity of morning light.

and strip it to the bone. no love is so i am standing here on the corner. wind feels like razors. like eyelashes blades cutting my cheeks. is this how i will remember bethnal green? am i hunted here? should i just give it another name?

summer is when i still feel the most free was reading of the late sixties, of dylan and a golden era made me want this so much more so glad i have two genuine people in my life no matter the first weeks or flashes

attached at the _ips

I have to say it makes me feel safe and some kind of comfort to look at the clock in the corner of the screen and know that you are awake too.

the band is in chicago preparing their new homes to be moved into. mine is still in my parents cause i am a loser like that: see also why i am hanging in nyc by myself. but ive got some schemes that i am working on.

tour is just thinking you have been in every hotel, club or truck stop before. it is deja vu personified. all full of love so much that my teeth are floating.

angels and nightmares and you and this i'm sick but there is no hospital to fix this kind of thing i daydream at night. i work vampire hours to get it right.

I heard somebody once say “if you love something set it free” But we’re doomed to crash with these clipped wings