Things are getting decent
SO sorry for the depressed rant before...not especially sorry, maybe if it caused you blindess or something I don't know, but I needed to get it out and stuff. Ragtime's a damn good book and its soundtracks even better.
My sister has friends over right now, they're spending the night. I can hear them beneath my feet, screaming and laughing, singing Newsies at the top their lungs while the TV in the kitchen plays some SNL skit making fun of St Patricks Day. I never had what my sister has right now. More than one girlfriend at once. All really good friends. I've only one good friend. Just one. Maybe three friends, tops. Sometimes I wish I had more, like now, where I could be laughing and feel like I belong with other humans instead of this person hidden behind plexiglass. I know how to act detatched, like it says in the stage directions for Mary in A Long Days Journey Into Night. It feels strange. You can hear words but you're not listening to them. They're in the distance, when you utter something distractedly as though trying to listen to a song while your mother asks you if you've let the dog out. The answer's right there, you don't have to think about it. You know you say the right thing but there's that second afterwards when you think that maybe it wasn't...
I'm just ranting now. Take this how you will.
Somebody give me a good book to read.
I'll be perkier tomorrow.
My sister has friends over right now, they're spending the night. I can hear them beneath my feet, screaming and laughing, singing Newsies at the top their lungs while the TV in the kitchen plays some SNL skit making fun of St Patricks Day. I never had what my sister has right now. More than one girlfriend at once. All really good friends. I've only one good friend. Just one. Maybe three friends, tops. Sometimes I wish I had more, like now, where I could be laughing and feel like I belong with other humans instead of this person hidden behind plexiglass. I know how to act detatched, like it says in the stage directions for Mary in A Long Days Journey Into Night. It feels strange. You can hear words but you're not listening to them. They're in the distance, when you utter something distractedly as though trying to listen to a song while your mother asks you if you've let the dog out. The answer's right there, you don't have to think about it. You know you say the right thing but there's that second afterwards when you think that maybe it wasn't...
I'm just ranting now. Take this how you will.
Somebody give me a good book to read.
I'll be perkier tomorrow.