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They'll always call me S-Jay

They'll always call me S-Jay. Signs, #hashtags, and my overly dramatized life. Tuesday, November 4, 2014. Panic at the Disco told me this was Gospel. I know its been a while. It feels like forever. And forever feels all to vaguely familiar. White washed walls gurney me back to the dark places I used to dwell. Faceless portraits still hang in their gold leafed frames. Mom loved the way our faces hung above the stairs. Its the creaks in the floor boards that shove my lifeless body over the edge. Dark, and ...

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They'll always call me S-Jay | its-s-jay.blogspot.com Reviews
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They'll always call me S-Jay. Signs, #hashtags, and my overly dramatized life. Tuesday, November 4, 2014. Panic at the Disco told me this was Gospel. I know its been a while. It feels like forever. And forever feels all to vaguely familiar. White washed walls gurney me back to the dark places I used to dwell. Faceless portraits still hang in their gold leafed frames. Mom loved the way our faces hung above the stairs. Its the creaks in the floor boards that shove my lifeless body over the edge. Dark, and ...
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1 hey guys
2 its s jay
3 i'm home
4 your lightless love
5 some smooth jazz
6 s jay
7 posted by
8 asher puriri
9 no comments
10 email this
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hey guys,its s jay,i'm home,your lightless love,some smooth jazz,s jay,posted by,asher puriri,no comments,email this,blogthis,share to twitter,share to facebook,share to pinterest,pasts,snakes,and old lovers,and lost chances,and nostalgia,and scars,filthy
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They'll always call me S-Jay | its-s-jay.blogspot.com Reviews

https://its-s-jay.blogspot.com

They'll always call me S-Jay. Signs, #hashtags, and my overly dramatized life. Tuesday, November 4, 2014. Panic at the Disco told me this was Gospel. I know its been a while. It feels like forever. And forever feels all to vaguely familiar. White washed walls gurney me back to the dark places I used to dwell. Faceless portraits still hang in their gold leafed frames. Mom loved the way our faces hung above the stairs. Its the creaks in the floor boards that shove my lifeless body over the edge. Dark, and ...

INTERNAL PAGES

its-s-jay.blogspot.com its-s-jay.blogspot.com
1

They'll always call me S-Jay: March 2013

http://www.its-s-jay.blogspot.com/2013_03_01_archive.html

They'll always call me S-Jay. Signs, #hashtags, and my overly dramatized life. Sunday, March 31, 2013. You promised me forever. Your tears will never fall like rain, watching me walk the isle. I'll never wear your ring on my finger, or that white wedding dress. Because hopes of forever and a none chocolate wedding cake are gone. We'll never put up our own tree, or hang worn out stockings in our cheep apartment. Because you'll never love me, and we'll never share sheets again. I will be happy. I'll be in ...

2

They'll always call me S-Jay: i'm not pretty.

http://www.its-s-jay.blogspot.com/2014/02/im-not-pretty.html

They'll always call me S-Jay. Signs, #hashtags, and my overly dramatized life. Sunday, February 2, 2014. I am not pretty. I do not even come close to being beautiful. I will NEVER be anything close to the expectations either of those words carry. All I am is Asher. With a wide set nose that is a dead give away of her Polynesian heritage. With an odd lisps that has been around since the first days she can remember. With an overly sensitive heart. With long hair that she hides behind. With a small chest.

3

They'll always call me S-Jay: They follow me, those snakes.

http://www.its-s-jay.blogspot.com/2014/07/they-follow-me-those-snakes.html

They'll always call me S-Jay. Signs, #hashtags, and my overly dramatized life. Sunday, July 13, 2014. They follow me, those snakes. Why is it that. Are so vital to who we are but so harmful to who we could be? How is it that they work they way into new beautiful things, wrap themselves around them, and squeeze until their is no sign of life? Dark, and slithery like snakes we breed in darker parts of our minds. Eating every last thing we fill ourselves with until the emptiness finds its way home again.

4

They'll always call me S-Jay: January 2013

http://www.its-s-jay.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html

They'll always call me S-Jay. Signs, #hashtags, and my overly dramatized life. Thursday, January 17, 2013. Time cant heal all wounds. I guess I'd sing to you now, if I could. I'd sing to you like pine cones sing to the wind just before they hit the ground. I'd sing to you like all my empty note book pages sing to me. I'd sing to you like fire escape ladders sing to offbeat teenage girls, on Thursday nights. If my tired bones keep reaching for the heavens at least we can hold out hope that there is one.

5

They'll always call me S-Jay: Panic at the Disco told me this was Gospel

http://www.its-s-jay.blogspot.com/2014/11/panic-at-disco-told-me-this-was-gospel.html

They'll always call me S-Jay. Signs, #hashtags, and my overly dramatized life. Tuesday, November 4, 2014. Panic at the Disco told me this was Gospel. I know its been a while. It feels like forever. And forever feels all to vaguely familiar. White washed walls gurney me back to the dark places I used to dwell. Faceless portraits still hang in their gold leafed frames. Mom loved the way our faces hung above the stairs. Its the creaks in the floor boards that shove my lifeless body over the edge. Everytime ...

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Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You: I'll Build Me A Paris Out Of Fountain Pens And Lined Paper.

http://notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com/2012/12/ill-build-me-paris-out-of-fountain-pens.html

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You. I'm winning you with words because I have no other way.". Monday, December 17, 2012. I'll Build Me A Paris Out Of Fountain Pens And Lined Paper. Paris is waking up in the morning and having ten extra minutes to do your hair. Paris is finding a 20 dollar bill in your pocket. Paris is kissing someone you haven't seen in a very long time. Paris is figuring out why you're angry. Paris is being able to breathe. In, out. Out, in. I'll always want Paris. 500 by Ch...

notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You: December 2012

http://notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com/2012_12_01_archive.html

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You. I'm winning you with words because I have no other way.". Monday, December 17, 2012. Maybe I'll Be Charlotte Forever. Or at least I'll try. Because when you find out who I am in real life, you'll be disappointed. Yes, that's me. I know Charlotte isn't real. And I'll never be her. Maybe she and I will just be distant cousins, or pen pals that don't have time to write. She'll be living life, and I'll be watching on the other side of the glass. Except I know t...

notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You: Maybe I'll Be Charlotte Forever.

http://notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com/2012/12/maybe-ill-be-charlotte-forever.html

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You. I'm winning you with words because I have no other way.". Monday, December 17, 2012. Maybe I'll Be Charlotte Forever. Or at least I'll try. Because when you find out who I am in real life, you'll be disappointed. Yes, that's me. I know Charlotte isn't real. And I'll never be her. Maybe she and I will just be distant cousins, or pen pals that don't have time to write. She'll be living life, and I'll be watching on the other side of the glass. I love this blog.

notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You: September 2012

http://notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com/2012_09_01_archive.html

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You. I'm winning you with words because I have no other way.". Sunday, September 30, 2012. I had a dollar in my hand and a patch on my feet, I had a collar 'round my neck and too many scars on my knees. I had a love once, he had no other job. Still, he wasn't enough and he got himself robbed. But it's 1,2,3, put your money on me. Put my skull in your grip, feel it crack as you squeeze. It's only then I feel a bit of spite. Posted by Sariah May. I went too far.

notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You: I Don't Move On.

http://notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com/2012/12/i-dont-move-on.html

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You. I'm winning you with words because I have no other way.". Sunday, December 2, 2012. I Don't Move On. Two steps outside and I know I've already ruined my chances. Thanks for telling me I'm exactly what you're looking for, but that you're not exactly looking. Oxymorons were never really my thing. So okay, I'm not a philosopher. I'm not ready to be enlightened. I'm not ready for applause or sweet perfume. Don't forget me, please. I'm losing my mind.

notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You: November 2012

http://notesfromallthepeoplewhousedtolove.blogspot.com/2012_11_01_archive.html

Notes From All The People Who Used To Love You. I'm winning you with words because I have no other way.". Monday, November 26, 2012. All The Things You Never Said. To my laundromat,. I'd really appreciate it if you would leave the spare change in the pockets of my coat. To my sister,. I ate your sandwich. I'm sorry about the fight it caused, but I'm not sorry for eating it. To the boys who always talk sports,. To Mr Nelson,. I get nervous when you don't comment on my blog. To my neighbor,. To my manager,.

theobsessedmess.blogspot.com theobsessedmess.blogspot.com

The Obsessed Mess: #haha

http://theobsessedmess.blogspot.com/2013/12/haha.html

Saturday, December 14, 2013. I heard you in the hall just now. Laughing. She made a flirty comment. a little too loudly. I heard every word. You started shushing her. You were right in front of my door. did you really think that I couldn't hear her? I laughed because I finally realized just how little you truly mean to me. Just how pathetic you truly are. Sure we're "friends" and all that crap, but I realized that the hold you had over me was nothing more than a schoolgirl crush. I want out of here.

evelynasher.blogspot.com evelynasher.blogspot.com

My life in words: November 2014

http://evelynasher.blogspot.com/2014_11_01_archive.html

My life in words. Thursday, November 20, 2014. Its so easy to forget sometimes,. The little bubbly laughs. The funny way he sneezes. The awkward shuffle he does down every aisle in the grocery store, just to make me smile. The world whirls around me and I lose sigh of the light at the end of my tunnel. Ah its so dreadfully unfair of me. My sunshine, oh he shines so bright. And the only time he dims is when I block him with pointless clouds. God I love him. Oh, how I love him. His little happy wiggle.

evelynasher.blogspot.com evelynasher.blogspot.com

My life in words: Stop letting the world define you

http://evelynasher.blogspot.com/2015/02/stop-letting-world-define-you.html

My life in words. Tuesday, February 10, 2015. Stop letting the world define you. I have spent so much of my life trying to be someone I'm not. I was critical of my body, and I hated myself. I know I'm not the only person in the world to ever feel like this. Boys, Girls, Men, Women, every age everywhere. Media, our peers, family, friends, everything tells us who we should be. What we should look like, what we should be wearing. Well I'm here to tell you it's all bull shit. View my complete profile. There ...

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They'll always call me S-Jay

They'll always call me S-Jay. Signs, #hashtags, and my overly dramatized life. Tuesday, November 4, 2014. Panic at the Disco told me this was Gospel. I know its been a while. It feels like forever. And forever feels all to vaguely familiar. White washed walls gurney me back to the dark places I used to dwell. Faceless portraits still hang in their gold leafed frames. Mom loved the way our faces hung above the stairs. Its the creaks in the floor boards that shove my lifeless body over the edge. Dark, and ...

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