But the kids were only shooting at the busses and the cars:
There's nothing like waking up to Jimmy Urine's everlasting falsetto. My stereo has a bad habit of randomly turning itself on at 9 am and playing the first CD it finds. This morning, it just happened to come across "Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy" by Mindless Self Indulgence. Wow, what an obnoxious form of alarm. Seriously, I'll be sure never to have that CD in the CD player before I go to sleep -- I just don't want to risk this ever happening again.
I forgot to mention in my last post that I somehow managed to get out working the morning shift today. Of course I'm going to end up coming in at 4 and working the same amount of hours, but at least I didn't have to wake up early for once. It was definitely nice to be able to sleep in an extra hour and then not have to rush around to get myself ready in a rush. In fact, as we speak, I'm still in my pajamas and have not applied any makeup yet. And I intend on keeping it this way until about 3:30 pm. :> The joys of laziness.
My cat Mew is sleeping on my blanket right now. In my bed. Lately it's made me immensely sad to look at him, because his age is really starting to catch up with him. I get these really cliche flashbacks of him when he was a kitten, when I could play rough with him and watch him zip from one ond of the house to the other. Now it takes him 3 minutes to even hop up onto my lap. I have this really strong fear of the day that he passes on -- mainly the discovery of it. This cat has been my companion since I was very young and I don't know how my reaction to his death will be like. I guess I shouldn't think about it until that day is here, right?
There are some days I really want to calm down. Everything from appearance to lifestyle. Talking about this with Chris lately has really made me think more about it -- Sure, there's something exciting about living a fast life with a carefree attitude, but there's something so much more rewarding in putting emphasis on the creativity and art INSIDE as opposed to outside. Sure, I can be a walking piece of eccentric art on a day to day basis, but it takes away from the poetry I produce. It takes away from the words I say. The balance is just completely off. On one hand, I really think I'm ready to grow up and start taking things seriously. But then a part of me still wants to be tattooed and politically outspoken and black haired and drunk. Is there some sort of balance I could find here? Some middle ground that could keep me happy?
Been having an inferiority complex lately. With all this talk from my friends and boy of beautifying themselves during the summer months, I'm left to think that I'll stand next to them in the fall as the inferior one. And that could completely be my low self esteem talking, but right now I'm feeling at an alltime low. My face is broken out [which is purely blamed on the medication I'm taking -- It always gets worse for two weeks before it gets better. But still.], I'm very aware of the fact that I'm not thin and that my body doesn't have the capability to be, and I can't be tan. And I have a really bad haircut and hair that won't grow. Even if I could somehow make myself over to be beautiful, it would take months to do, and I know very well that I don't have that patience. Since when did life become all about aesthetics, Charlot? Jeez. I need to shut up and get a reality check.
I'm looking to bounce poetry soon if anyone is interested. Been in such the colaboration mood as of lately.
In Prague we drink to insects I think,
Charlot
I forgot to mention in my last post that I somehow managed to get out working the morning shift today. Of course I'm going to end up coming in at 4 and working the same amount of hours, but at least I didn't have to wake up early for once. It was definitely nice to be able to sleep in an extra hour and then not have to rush around to get myself ready in a rush. In fact, as we speak, I'm still in my pajamas and have not applied any makeup yet. And I intend on keeping it this way until about 3:30 pm. :> The joys of laziness.
My cat Mew is sleeping on my blanket right now. In my bed. Lately it's made me immensely sad to look at him, because his age is really starting to catch up with him. I get these really cliche flashbacks of him when he was a kitten, when I could play rough with him and watch him zip from one ond of the house to the other. Now it takes him 3 minutes to even hop up onto my lap. I have this really strong fear of the day that he passes on -- mainly the discovery of it. This cat has been my companion since I was very young and I don't know how my reaction to his death will be like. I guess I shouldn't think about it until that day is here, right?
There are some days I really want to calm down. Everything from appearance to lifestyle. Talking about this with Chris lately has really made me think more about it -- Sure, there's something exciting about living a fast life with a carefree attitude, but there's something so much more rewarding in putting emphasis on the creativity and art INSIDE as opposed to outside. Sure, I can be a walking piece of eccentric art on a day to day basis, but it takes away from the poetry I produce. It takes away from the words I say. The balance is just completely off. On one hand, I really think I'm ready to grow up and start taking things seriously. But then a part of me still wants to be tattooed and politically outspoken and black haired and drunk. Is there some sort of balance I could find here? Some middle ground that could keep me happy?
Been having an inferiority complex lately. With all this talk from my friends and boy of beautifying themselves during the summer months, I'm left to think that I'll stand next to them in the fall as the inferior one. And that could completely be my low self esteem talking, but right now I'm feeling at an alltime low. My face is broken out [which is purely blamed on the medication I'm taking -- It always gets worse for two weeks before it gets better. But still.], I'm very aware of the fact that I'm not thin and that my body doesn't have the capability to be, and I can't be tan. And I have a really bad haircut and hair that won't grow. Even if I could somehow make myself over to be beautiful, it would take months to do, and I know very well that I don't have that patience. Since when did life become all about aesthetics, Charlot? Jeez. I need to shut up and get a reality check.
I'm looking to bounce poetry soon if anyone is interested. Been in such the colaboration mood as of lately.
In Prague we drink to insects I think,
Charlot