how the sky was painted blue (blue rhymes with...)
i figure it's just a matter of time before some Krop kid reads this and scampers off to tell Drew all about how obsessed i am. only, what they don't know is that this is as far from obsession as i've ever been. remember the first week i admitted to myself that, yeah, i have a thing for Drew? i was head over heels hysterical. i was dancing in the halls and bursting into laughter. it was all smiles and twirls, you know the drill. but what boy have i not had that with? no, it's the aftermath of all that typical crap that really gets me. right now, this feeling i have is so subtle, so ordinary. it's like this tiny constant in my life now that creeps into my head every once in a while to remind me how great he is, and that's the most beautiful thing ever. i dont like Drew because of how he makes me feel, i like him because of who he is. i like him because he doesn't like me, and my heart is still enduring. it's a realist kinda love.
Saturday should be off the walls entertainment. music, friends, illegal stuff, and s'mores to put the icing on the cake. i invited Drew but, naturally, he has to fly up to Manhattan (aka home) to visit his editor. he's such a literary snob. it's fucking awesome.
Somehow or another Drew knows Amanda. My Amanda. MYYY AMANDA. christ that hurts to say. it hurts to think about her. He said that he didnt know her all that well, but if he did he'd probably hate her. I could see why. I guess i'd hate her too if i didnt want her to love me so bad. Mandy, what did they do to us? we were sisters. i still have the home videos of us as kids. everything was so much brighter then. we were happy. we didnt know better. and do you still keep the last name, that eternal tag that tells the world who you are? do you believe that's who you are? my uncle's first child? the daughter of an alcoholic? the sister of a baby prince you'll never see? do you remember you're my cousin. the last time i saw you you were shopping with you mom, my aunt, Donna in a Target. You saw me, and recognition flickered in your face. But you just passed by. You just took your shopping cart and left. Am i that damnable, that i don't even deserve a hello? am i that repulsive to you? i still have the anklet we bought. best. friend. but i dont know who holds the other half. is it you? or is it who you've become? a materialistic monster? a jap? an artist? a princess? i'll never know, will i???
anyways...i'm struggling with this food thing. the line between starving and hungry, between hungry and full, between full and stuffed...it's all so blurry. my father told me my mother said not to show me my homecoming pictures because i'd say i was fat. i think she's really scared i'm gonna stop eating again. i'm scared i'm gonna stop eating again.
i'm fading into nothing; i'm forgetting who i am.
"i need some meaning i can memorize. the kind i have always seems to slip my mind."
i dont think my friends really understand that song. i dont think they feel the words the way i do. i dont think they know what it feels like to be driving home in the back seat of your father's truck and thoroughly feel conner oberst when he says "i want a lover i dont have to love." to be so sad that all you want to feel is something, anything. pain. love. sex. when to be used would be a better substitution to numbness. i haven't been quite that sad in a very long time. that's good. chin up, right?
no, i'm not sad. but i'm not happy. and i'm probably going to trigger one of my friends into a fit of depression if they read this entry. i'm probably going to scare a lot of you out there who can't stomach this shit. but if i dont confront it, it will consume me. blah.
i'm boring myself again, so i'm gonna go cook something new.
love and luck to everyone.
ps: how can you not believe in fate?
Saturday should be off the walls entertainment. music, friends, illegal stuff, and s'mores to put the icing on the cake. i invited Drew but, naturally, he has to fly up to Manhattan (aka home) to visit his editor. he's such a literary snob. it's fucking awesome.
Somehow or another Drew knows Amanda. My Amanda. MYYY AMANDA. christ that hurts to say. it hurts to think about her. He said that he didnt know her all that well, but if he did he'd probably hate her. I could see why. I guess i'd hate her too if i didnt want her to love me so bad. Mandy, what did they do to us? we were sisters. i still have the home videos of us as kids. everything was so much brighter then. we were happy. we didnt know better. and do you still keep the last name, that eternal tag that tells the world who you are? do you believe that's who you are? my uncle's first child? the daughter of an alcoholic? the sister of a baby prince you'll never see? do you remember you're my cousin. the last time i saw you you were shopping with you mom, my aunt, Donna in a Target. You saw me, and recognition flickered in your face. But you just passed by. You just took your shopping cart and left. Am i that damnable, that i don't even deserve a hello? am i that repulsive to you? i still have the anklet we bought. best. friend. but i dont know who holds the other half. is it you? or is it who you've become? a materialistic monster? a jap? an artist? a princess? i'll never know, will i???
anyways...i'm struggling with this food thing. the line between starving and hungry, between hungry and full, between full and stuffed...it's all so blurry. my father told me my mother said not to show me my homecoming pictures because i'd say i was fat. i think she's really scared i'm gonna stop eating again. i'm scared i'm gonna stop eating again.
i'm fading into nothing; i'm forgetting who i am.
"i need some meaning i can memorize. the kind i have always seems to slip my mind."
i dont think my friends really understand that song. i dont think they feel the words the way i do. i dont think they know what it feels like to be driving home in the back seat of your father's truck and thoroughly feel conner oberst when he says "i want a lover i dont have to love." to be so sad that all you want to feel is something, anything. pain. love. sex. when to be used would be a better substitution to numbness. i haven't been quite that sad in a very long time. that's good. chin up, right?
no, i'm not sad. but i'm not happy. and i'm probably going to trigger one of my friends into a fit of depression if they read this entry. i'm probably going to scare a lot of you out there who can't stomach this shit. but if i dont confront it, it will consume me. blah.
i'm boring myself again, so i'm gonna go cook something new.
love and luck to everyone.
ps: how can you not believe in fate?