(no subject)
Meow, one is in a meditative mood today. I HAVE LIME GREEN NAILS!!! ...
I altered my blue velvet dress which did not fit me, and has an extremely low cut neckline which only serves to mock my lack of BOOBS. It looks like a fairy dress now. If I had an exam on Halloween I would have bought wings and went into the exam as a fairy, but alas - I do not.
I wish to buy the blue 10 hole docs from Raben’s next time. Oh, apparently I’m getting a rat for my birthday, from my dear sister Jimmy. It shall be called Horatio if a boy and Wednesday if a girl. WHEEE!!!
I need new music also. Blah.
Exams are progressing well (read: TRAGIC). The only thing keeping me together is the fact I get to talk to Sir Bubbles every night, well, that - and the fact I’ll never have to write Skrzynecki ever again. Although it doesn’t help when people tell me I’m “screwed” because I only got up to my second text in section III before the clock jumped ahead and I heard “pens down”. I’m not as stressed as I should be, maybe it’s a good thing, or maybe it’s not. I don’t know - I don’t WANT to know.
My dear parents have bought a shop in the city on Pitt Street called Bar Pronto. It has yummy food and good coffee, and it might provide me with a job after I finish my HSC or something. I don’t like dealing with people, in fact it makes me seize up so much I nearly loss consciousness on occasions. But counseling is helping me with that. Not.
Also, why do people find it hard to accept that I’m straight? I am not bisexual! But I’m not homophobic. My dear sisters are bi (yes both of them) one is gayer than Christmas in fact. Heck, I don’t think any of my friends are straight. Even the angelic Linda who lives with her conservative parents has bisexual tendencies.
Yes, so I poke Jimmy’s boobs. I can because we are sisters and we are both comfortable with each other, on a side note: I want boobs too!!! I was also told that I tend to exclaim, “She’s so pretty/adorable/cute” all too often. Truth is, I’m just getting used to the fact that most of the females are smarter and more physically attractive than me. This is so that I’m not in shock/devastated/suicidal/dead when males reject me. I’ll just adopt the oh-well attitude which in the long run could be more beneficial to my mental health.
Now, even though I was brutally shaken when I realized that males are not all scum a while ago - I still maintain that the majority if them are. One of those unrefined ill-informed creatures rang me last night. He decided that he was ‘gangsta’ and wanted to bash every Goth he knew. Problem one: I’m not Goth. Problem two: they are his friends. Problem three: he is delusional and thinks they all worship Satan (honest).
I try to reason with him, I really tried, but he is blind to his faults and yelled abuse at me which caused me to hang up on him. I’m never hung up on anyone prior to this incident.
This leads me to the next carriage of my train of thought. What defines gothniess? I’ve always believed that ‘identity is not a birthright but a practice’. My past experiences tell me otherwise.
... I think I’m rambling too much.
Must go before I fall asleep on the keyboard. Even so, I shall be willing to wake up when Sir Bubbles rings. ^_^
I altered my blue velvet dress which did not fit me, and has an extremely low cut neckline which only serves to mock my lack of BOOBS. It looks like a fairy dress now. If I had an exam on Halloween I would have bought wings and went into the exam as a fairy, but alas - I do not.
I wish to buy the blue 10 hole docs from Raben’s next time. Oh, apparently I’m getting a rat for my birthday, from my dear sister Jimmy. It shall be called Horatio if a boy and Wednesday if a girl. WHEEE!!!
I need new music also. Blah.
Exams are progressing well (read: TRAGIC). The only thing keeping me together is the fact I get to talk to Sir Bubbles every night, well, that - and the fact I’ll never have to write Skrzynecki ever again. Although it doesn’t help when people tell me I’m “screwed” because I only got up to my second text in section III before the clock jumped ahead and I heard “pens down”. I’m not as stressed as I should be, maybe it’s a good thing, or maybe it’s not. I don’t know - I don’t WANT to know.
My dear parents have bought a shop in the city on Pitt Street called Bar Pronto. It has yummy food and good coffee, and it might provide me with a job after I finish my HSC or something. I don’t like dealing with people, in fact it makes me seize up so much I nearly loss consciousness on occasions. But counseling is helping me with that. Not.
Also, why do people find it hard to accept that I’m straight? I am not bisexual! But I’m not homophobic. My dear sisters are bi (yes both of them) one is gayer than Christmas in fact. Heck, I don’t think any of my friends are straight. Even the angelic Linda who lives with her conservative parents has bisexual tendencies.
Yes, so I poke Jimmy’s boobs. I can because we are sisters and we are both comfortable with each other, on a side note: I want boobs too!!! I was also told that I tend to exclaim, “She’s so pretty/adorable/cute” all too often. Truth is, I’m just getting used to the fact that most of the females are smarter and more physically attractive than me. This is so that I’m not in shock/devastated/suicidal/dead when males reject me. I’ll just adopt the oh-well attitude which in the long run could be more beneficial to my mental health.
Now, even though I was brutally shaken when I realized that males are not all scum a while ago - I still maintain that the majority if them are. One of those unrefined ill-informed creatures rang me last night. He decided that he was ‘gangsta’ and wanted to bash every Goth he knew. Problem one: I’m not Goth. Problem two: they are his friends. Problem three: he is delusional and thinks they all worship Satan (honest).
I try to reason with him, I really tried, but he is blind to his faults and yelled abuse at me which caused me to hang up on him. I’m never hung up on anyone prior to this incident.
This leads me to the next carriage of my train of thought. What defines gothniess? I’ve always believed that ‘identity is not a birthright but a practice’. My past experiences tell me otherwise.
... I think I’m rambling too much.
Must go before I fall asleep on the keyboard. Even so, I shall be willing to wake up when Sir Bubbles rings. ^_^