its not fair.

its not fair. its not fair. its not fair.



god isnt fair

words are just all the birds,

i loved him, though at the time didn't know what that meant.
he was my best friend, and he was beautiful.
His eyes were like planets,
alive with life and the color of liquid mahogany
but sparkled like every star in the sky.
his scent was sweet like southern hospitality
and his skin was as soft as the fresh gardenias that grow in my mothers garden,
and as warm as a summer day.
he had my fathers hands. strong and rough. but oh so gentle.
every time i was around him i immediately felt at home...

sex, love, honey

that i taste.
honey makes me wait,
honey says shes late.


Great song
=]

in the grand scheme of the universe i have realized that i am a very small spec in it.
however, i refuse to acknowledge that fact in my daily life.
the truth?? (omg, shes being honest?)

i think im pretty kick ass.
i mean yes i have my flaws as any other person,
but as far as a teenage girl from macon georgia, im superior to most of my species.
call it narcissism, call it being stuck up
but hey atleast i dont have AIDS.

i mean im actually going to do something with my life
its like a god given right.
im bigger than macon.
im bigger than georgia.

sometimes when i look at the beauty queens around me i question myself
because frankly, they over shadow me by quite a large margin.
in the outside beauty department.
but on the inside theyre rotten to the core.
i might not be americas next top model, but atleast i have morals.
which there is a huge lack of these days.

i have come to terms with the fact im not sweet little Taylor anymore.
that died.
now im new and improved.
ready to get down and dirty to show the world something new.
paint these streets gold.

no more holding back for me,
its my time now.

Dry,

uhg i hate my body.

ive been uber stressin lately, and it isnt handling it well.
see, my body tends to turn emotional and/or mental fatigue or pain into physical pain.

headaches, breathing trouble, chest tightening/pressure, tummy ache, exhaustion.

you'd think talking about it would release some of it, and this is true.
but in the process the uncomfort reaches a climax
which tends to lead to panic attacks
which are in no way, shape or form fun.
and i just really dont feel like going through that tonight.
or at all if i can help it.


im not sure what i need, but something has definitely got to give.

Echo

i miss you.

i wish we could talk
because ive needed you so.

im afraid you wouldnt like me now.
but only you could change that.

i wish you could meet him.
and we could be family.

i wish you could hear me sing,
and we could make waffles
and watch cartoons.

i love you.

edit:
you have given me the most precious gift you could possibly give.
Thank you
=]

superman is dead,

haha '09.
its been a joke so far.

even in the first few hours of the new year, i was struggling.

i guess we'll see what happens