ramble
the girls that are disguised as sluts and the monotone voices blend to make the highschool scene. i used to think we were all a bunch of zombies, but lately like i feel like i was the one walking around half dead. stilletos heels and punk rock vests make the scenery that much more enjoyable. at lunch, i imagine that my soggy pizza is a plate of warmed bean taquitos, with a variety of salsa, and a bed of lettuce. oh what a generous bed of lettuce it would be. and noone really gets it, besides her. it killed us, although she had known since that one time before. and sometimes i need to remember to step outside of my own head, because this certaintly isn't healthy. like that one time that i tried to hide it so long ago, but it inched out of me, slowly becoming visible to the world. or maybe just a handful. i chuckle sadly as i hear the toothpicks discuss their new dietary supplements, and i smirk at kids who come back from lunch, their eyes glassy and half shut. their eyes always look that way after lunch. green is their best friend. so this smirking, and laughing, it's all for the wrong reasons. and i feel so guilty. but we have to stay entertained, you know? you have to find some way to stay awake. because when the sky is grey and the mood is biege and your stylish scarf isn't doing much to keep you warm, you gotta have your fix. some kids scoff, some kids smoke, some kids put all their energy into their homework. there i sit, music drowning out the voices, wishing i had a taquito, and smiling at all of them, or maybe not smiling at all. it's easier that way. but nothings really that hard. well that's hard, but only a few. it's just so easy to tune it all out. tune out the drama, tune out the mockery, and before i know it, the hacky sack has dropped right in front of my feet. they all look, and then one of them makes some joke about how much i suck, picks up the sack, and the game resumes again. i don't mind the interruption, and watch them show off their stalls and various egomaniac plays. it's all in good fun, and i still want a taquito, and then the day is over, my film has dissapoined me, and even the darkroom didnt feel safe. i just want to go home. i wait for the bus. i listen to people brag and joke and fill me in with details that cause some delight, and then im home. and theres nothing to do. i check the computer, i write, i erase, i write, i erase. i wish that he would call, but i know not to expect it until much later. i turn up the music, i turn off the lights, and i sit. i write or do nothing, i turn on the tv, only to turn it right back off, disgusted. its easy to get sucked in, but its always thoroughly disgusting. i pace around, wishing i lived some majestic life, where colors are not colors, but a mixture of paints, finger painted, visible by the moon. i strip myself down and let the burning hot water wash away all the doubts and uncertainties and insecurities away. my skin gets so pink. my face looks that of a battle scene. i always stay in until the knob needs to be turned to the left a notch, just to make the water a little warmer. oh, how i wish i could bathe in the sea. i like it, with the salt coating my hair, and the grains of sand finding their way to my scalp. it just feels a bit more natural. i find my bed, only tripping once or twice. stereo on sleep. alarm clock on. slowly drift to the deepest form of slumber. dreams that don't have a "deeper meaning", but consist of a variety of people in my life causing fear in way or another. and in the end, it always seems like i've hit rock bottom, but then high volume radio wakes me up.