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maybe I can find my way to the roof without milt. but i wont, because I told my aunt I wouldnt. and shes very particular, for lack of a better word. empty empty is right. even the word kind of loses meaning after you type it enough.
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i reall yneed something ato do i have all thiis energy and absolutely no creative motivation to do anything with it, so i think ill just type until explode or figure out something to do wiht it. that vonnegut book i got today was ok. scouldnt get int othe reading tho, it just didnt capture me like cats cradle did. and i couldnt bring myself to spend thriteen dollars on that murakami.
sexy sexy made up of plexi.
blah blah blah blah. this livjournal is like the book tof thoughts yo uput under your bed because its just useless babble that you need to get out and not share with anyone. unlike modblog where its like, hey whats the rest of the social world up ot. blah blah blah blah.
wwhat the hell is brandon up to? aside from transcending his sexual barriers with unfulfilling threesomes. blahbalhablajbdlfakjsdlfiamsdflkmalsdf
the only thing i can think of doing is walking, but its gtoo late, its always too late and the wrong time and place when I really need a good walk the most. in the dorms at one in the morning when i fel like i want to tear my head off, in a hostel in the city too dodgy to walk in after a boy makes me feel like a stupid piece of shit, in columbia sc feeling like an imposter in my sisters home and ewanting to walk in the rain at night but casnt cause of all the stupid ghetto guys waiting to shout dumb stuff at every "shorty" in sight. here, in edmonds. where its safe but my aunt wouldnt want me walking around, so i dont. walkign walking walking. the first time i ever just hit the road with my feet i walked across the fields in ewiole hale . i walked for 3 hours and foiund a cowskull i eventually carried home and painted flowers on.
it wasnt eve nthat pretty, but i remember thinking how cool my mom was for soaking the skull to get the bugs out for me. cowskulls are big.thank god shaunte dropped off that bag, now i can finally mail that stuff to matt and renee and marie. what would i be like if had spend a few years growing up in a place like this?
you know that feeling of calm helplessnessss when you get sucked into a wave and crashed in a sandy airless tumble of water? I would kill for taht feeling right about now. To get my mind intothe complete here and now where nothing else matters but that first breath. and after that who cares. the detachment. the "gee, cant do a thing might as well wait it out". a couple of seconds of bliss to shut up this idle mind of mine.
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asdlkjf
alskdjf
i reall yneed something ato do i have all thiis energy and absolutely no creative motivation to do anything with it, so i think ill just type until explode or figure out something to do wiht it. that vonnegut book i got today was ok. scouldnt get int othe reading tho, it just didnt capture me like cats cradle did. and i couldnt bring myself to spend thriteen dollars on that murakami.
sexy sexy made up of plexi.
blah blah blah blah. this livjournal is like the book tof thoughts yo uput under your bed because its just useless babble that you need to get out and not share with anyone. unlike modblog where its like, hey whats the rest of the social world up ot. blah blah blah blah.
wwhat the hell is brandon up to? aside from transcending his sexual barriers with unfulfilling threesomes. blahbalhablajbdlfakjsdlfiamsdflkmalsdf
the only thing i can think of doing is walking, but its gtoo late, its always too late and the wrong time and place when I really need a good walk the most. in the dorms at one in the morning when i fel like i want to tear my head off, in a hostel in the city too dodgy to walk in after a boy makes me feel like a stupid piece of shit, in columbia sc feeling like an imposter in my sisters home and ewanting to walk in the rain at night but casnt cause of all the stupid ghetto guys waiting to shout dumb stuff at every "shorty" in sight. here, in edmonds. where its safe but my aunt wouldnt want me walking around, so i dont. walkign walking walking. the first time i ever just hit the road with my feet i walked across the fields in ewiole hale . i walked for 3 hours and foiund a cowskull i eventually carried home and painted flowers on.
it wasnt eve nthat pretty, but i remember thinking how cool my mom was for soaking the skull to get the bugs out for me. cowskulls are big.thank god shaunte dropped off that bag, now i can finally mail that stuff to matt and renee and marie. what would i be like if had spend a few years growing up in a place like this?
you know that feeling of calm helplessnessss when you get sucked into a wave and crashed in a sandy airless tumble of water? I would kill for taht feeling right about now. To get my mind intothe complete here and now where nothing else matters but that first breath. and after that who cares. the detachment. the "gee, cant do a thing might as well wait it out". a couple of seconds of bliss to shut up this idle mind of mine.