dear lord.
this isn't good.
try to pretend they're classy.
Waaaa?
Fuck you!
:]
This revelation has made me unspeakably more excited about the current predicament.
I'm really very excited about baking in my panties.
When its too dark to even make shapes out, and I'm afraid I'm going to run into something,
I make exaggerated swimming motions with my arms.
Not the nice sleek speed ones,
but the ones when you're doing that thing that reminds me of a frog.
Needless to say,
I haven't run into any walls lately
- Music:i monster
At least I'll have one bomb ass science paper.
I'm overreacting again.
I know it.
I still,
I feel used.
that's what it is.
I know that I'm making the right decisions for me, the certainty of that is clear like a glasswing.
But that doesn't keep me from feeling awful about how I've made others feel.
I know I've lost a bestfriend, one I talked to everyday, one who cared about the arbitrary events in my life, and that I do miss. I miss it with all my heart, I don't miss the "relationship" per say, I miss the friend I had as part of that. There's a bond forged when two people laugh over the little things, the nothings of the day, not sharing any words, but inherently sharing the knowledge that you're laughing at the same thing.
That's what I miss.
I know that I somewhow screwed up the ability for a friendship to continue past the relationship, and that is maybe my one regret.
Other than that, I'm good daily.
I'm happy, I'm content. It feels like the inbetweens of spring and summer, when you wake up in the morning, with a sheet over your head, in nothing but your undies curled up around a pillow, watching the sun rays float through the print of your homeade tent.
Yeah,
thats exactly what it feels like,
only someone is sharing this moment with you.
My only goal, is to spend more time with my natalie.
I refuse to be the girl who forgets her friends.
any little criticism hits like a missile, and detonates on contact.
So I've been angry and pissed and coming up with my own criticisms.
You are just plain mean.
I wish you would quit thinking of me that way, because I love being your friend, but it gets a little bit creepy. well no, a lot creepy really.
TOO high fucking PITCHED
Learn how to talk bitch. just because a word starts with the same three letters doesn't make it have the same meaning.
Coming from me this has got to sound rich, but you complain wayyyyyyyy too much, you make the biggest thing out of something as little, or as helpful, as getting extra time to do something. You talk about being independent, but seriously, grow a brain. You would have the word FAIL tattooed on your forehead if you actually tried to be independent.
I think you're overtly shallow, and not in an acceptable ew he's ugly way. and I really don't know if I want to be your friend anymore, because a. I can't handle it, and b. you've made it painfully clear that you don't give a shit. I really don't want to hear about your problems any more, because they're not as big as you think they are.
Same goes to you, I don't really think you're shallow, but you obviously don't care. Whatever though. I don't need it anyway.
I know you're female, but grow some balls and tell people what you really think.
Get your head out of your ass and look around, and realize, SHE'S NOT INTERESTED ANYMORE stupid. It doesn't matter if you still like her or not, but it doesn't justify being an asshole to everyone else.
I'm done for today.
okay gnight.
P.S.
I should've mentioned, these probably aren't about who you may think they're about.
The problem with death, is that's it's so cliche to say anything about.
In life, it's one of the two constants,
there's change, and there's death.
Entropy,
the slow execution of the universe.
So what can you say when somone dies, that doesn't sound like complete bullshit, because it's nothing new.
You say what sounds like bull anyway.
My first death was on tuesday september fourth 2007.
It didn't hit me, and it still hasn't,
maybe because it was expected, and then it wasn't, and then it came.
It was my stepgrandpa, Roque Carbajo-Lechuga.
My second, was friday september seventh 2007.
It hit me bad, like a matress fell from a fourstory building onto my head.
Bryce Lewis, brother of one of my previously close friends.
And what made it worse, is that I couldn't cry for roque, but I could cry for someone I didn't know that well.
When I'd stay over at Austyns, sometimes, late, when austyn was asleep, Bryce would come home and we'd end up talking, mostly it was him though, telling me about some adventure.
And I always wanted to get to know him bettter.
I never had a crush on him, but I did want to be his friend, and to go on some of those adventures he'd tell me about.
I always figured he'd let me tag along someday.
but now I can't.
and I still owe him lunch.
I guess the point is, now I'm really paranoid about loosing people, and I get anxious when I'm not with them.
and I really don't want to loose friendships now, because I can feel entropy creeping up on me.
Except for the fact that Maggie is leaving at the end of the year.
My dad is giving me what I want for my birthday, but I'm still trying to make a decision on destination. He thinks we should go to Argentina, I think we should go to Bhutan, Portugal, The samoas, or Hungary, Annelise thinks we should go somewhere with an amusement park.
So many choices, I'd like to go somewhere I haven't been yet, but in saying that I don't know where to go because I I don't trust travel websites and I don't know anybody who can give me firsthand acounts of half the places I'd like to go.
Today I've realized just how odd my household is.
Gary and I made cupcakes for his boyfriend today, and they're shaped like aliens.
I'm having a ton of trouble with this neilson rating crap, and so Annelise and I couldn't watch instant star, so instead we watched degrassi btw.
Kyan informed us that he wouldn't eat hotdogs or brautwurst anymore because they look like penises.
Giorgio asked me why it's called octopussy.
And I'm eating a banana when I can't stand them.
How much better can it get.
- Location:Basement
- Music:Omarion remixes
I have a structure to how I arrange my hill of blankets, there must be airspace in the middle, it has to spread out over a three foot by three foot area, and it has to look like a person couldn't possibly be in it. I hide in that cave, and eventually fall asleep. And I can never just fall asleep, I always have a thought that's excruciatingly upsetting.
I found out today that Every year about 98% of the atoms in your body are replaced, and that kind of scares me. Do I only contain 2% percent of myself by the end of the year? Will only two percent of me remember an experience I had? I want to remember 100%of everything. So do my memories disapear along with my atoms? Is what I describe of my life from two years ago just a thirdhand acount? been passed on from atom to atom?
And when I finally drift off, I'm deprived of actual rest, I have horrible dreams, and I want to know what they mean.
Yesterday, I had a dream, and it was a bit like a science fiction novel, long awkward and surreal.
I lived in the mountains, in a campsite, with more people than I can name, and we were all terrified of something, and it went on like that for a while, setting up the story line, and then the one person I disliked out of everyone I lived with, took one of the airplanes we had,
and I have no idea why we had airplanes in the first place, but he flew off with something that everyone needed in order to live. I'm not sure what it was, but I was the one who got the call, that Davious, the guy I couldn't stand, had gone off, and had gotten stuck in a hurricane type thing and told me his coordinates, and I had no idea why he would need me to come get him when he had an airplane, but apparently he did. I started off towards another airplane, and an arm slunk around my waist, and in my dream it seemed right, like he was who I was with but he isn't, I've never even considered him, actually I barely know him, but anyway, he drove the plane for me. Something happened in the process of flying, upon waking I wasn't sure about the details, and we landed in gibralter. My dad was there, along with my grandmother, we stayed in a really odd hotel, I wasn't even aware there was enough space in Gibralter for a hotel like this. There was rainforest surrounding it, and little overhangs with spaces for japanese style tea. My bathtub was a stoneworked pool, with a mini waterfall. Suddenly, my grandmother and my dad and I were in a depertment store looking at bathrobes. And my dad was explaining the dangers of travelling alone. I had two tickets in my hand, one to nigeria, and a connecting flight to bhutan. Why I had to go to Nigeria on my way to Bhutan puzzled me. I packed my suitcase, which I didn't have upon arriving in Gibralter, got on the plane, and landed in Nigeria. I was walking through the airport in Nigeria, which looked nothing like the actual Nigerian airport, It actually looked like a casino in Vegas, and I had to pee really really badly, so I stepped into the place that said bathroom, only it wasn;t a bathroom, it was kind of like the older movie theaters, where the floor tilts, and you have to walk with your ankles at a funny angle in order to keep from tripping over your toes. but this tilted floor had a drop off about four feet from the entrance, there were steps at the drop off, but they were kind of like roads that recede into the distance, where it looks smaller as it gets farther away, only they really were getting smaller with each step down. I got to the bottom without falling, which looked exactly like the upper level, complete with the drop off, only on this level there was a six year old juggling fire, and a unicycler, and I turned to the right, to go up the next aisle, because that's where the sign that said bathroom was, but Stephen Hawking was blocking my way, he decided that I was to test his new invention, to which I was like, fuck you I have to pee. But he wouldn't move. So I was like fine, but if I pee my pants you are paying for new clothes and som new dignity.
I woke up, it was about nine.
I ate a pear, talked to my mom for a while, and realized that I never made it to Bhutan, or rescued that guy, and I was extremely upset about not even being able to follow through on things even in my dreams.
I went back to my room, drank some tea, looked through my yoga book, stripped down to my panties and went to sleep in my nest again.
I had another not so pleasant dream, about some guy, who stole another guys idea for a book, and then proceded to kill the guy. I somehow got into the middle of it and threw the cleaver the guy was trying to stab the other guy with into some lady's back yard, her dog caught it, and then somehow I was in the bed of a pickup truck.
I was at a grocery store.
Then I was at my house at a party, yelling at the murderer because he was saying he wasn't going to publish his book. I was upset because he'd put me through all this shit and I wasn't going to let him get away with putting me through all of that for nothing.
I've been having a lot of dreams about people being tortured lately. Why?
I had a dream that I was in the same hotel as a serial killer, and that he was on the floor below me, no matter where I was. and that I was walking in his aftermath. He had ripped out this woman's intestines, she was in a room that contained a pool, and the water was seeping into her blood, and her blood into the water, it was leaking over the edge of the pool. I stepped into the room, to see if there was a phone I could use to call 911, and she screamed. I had thought she was dead, and it made my stomach drop to a place I wasn't aware existed.
Is my mind just twisted lately? Am I having dreams because I'm fucked up? Or am I having these horrible dreams because I should be doing something I'm not?
Oh, and by the way.
I've given up on him.
He doesn't seem to be interested.
And that is somewhat devastating.
Today I learned that the only things that make me attractive are that I'm tight, untouched and flexible.
Exact words,
no joke.
I'm pretty disgusted with myself.
- Location:Basement
- Music:std dance
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