I wanna be... Your Sledgehammer
Goddamn.
So, it's 3:10 in the morning, and I have the worst case of writer's block, ever. There's only so much you can say about Barbie, and I don't really feel about writing about it to begin with. The class bores me. I would like all the talking and shit, but at 8 in the morning and being super-tired, I don't really feel like it. If this class were at...say...noon, I would rock it.
I don't know what's up with girls nowadays. I dug one, she passed. A girl from long ago came into the picture. I don't know what's up. Love is like Haley's Comet. It comes in cycles...it's always there, but at times it's never visible. It weens and wanes and slaps me in the face. I'm too social, I'm not social enough. I'm too emotional. I'm impatient, but I'm patient. I just wish some girl would claim me quickly so I could tell other girls that they don't matter. Well, not that they don't matter, but that I shouldn't matter to them in the whole metaphysical schematic of life, as my chi is with someone else. Or something.
I wore a pink shirt to the bartending today. I think all of the men that came in there gave me shit about it. All the women thought I looked good in it, especially when partnered with my blue and pink belt. It's not my fucking fault that I have a sense of fashion and am not afraid to wear something that's all "faggoty." I think I'm giving all the regulars pink shirts for Christmas.
Is it my fault that I have high standards for a girl?
Actually, I don't think they're too high. Shit. If I could introduce her to my mother, and we got along...I think that would be a good start. I'm tired of sleeping alone at night. Plus, I wouldn't mind doing it. haha.
We'll see what tomorrow brings. Fuck this paper.
Mas Amor!
So, it's 3:10 in the morning, and I have the worst case of writer's block, ever. There's only so much you can say about Barbie, and I don't really feel about writing about it to begin with. The class bores me. I would like all the talking and shit, but at 8 in the morning and being super-tired, I don't really feel like it. If this class were at...say...noon, I would rock it.
I don't know what's up with girls nowadays. I dug one, she passed. A girl from long ago came into the picture. I don't know what's up. Love is like Haley's Comet. It comes in cycles...it's always there, but at times it's never visible. It weens and wanes and slaps me in the face. I'm too social, I'm not social enough. I'm too emotional. I'm impatient, but I'm patient. I just wish some girl would claim me quickly so I could tell other girls that they don't matter. Well, not that they don't matter, but that I shouldn't matter to them in the whole metaphysical schematic of life, as my chi is with someone else. Or something.
I wore a pink shirt to the bartending today. I think all of the men that came in there gave me shit about it. All the women thought I looked good in it, especially when partnered with my blue and pink belt. It's not my fucking fault that I have a sense of fashion and am not afraid to wear something that's all "faggoty." I think I'm giving all the regulars pink shirts for Christmas.
Is it my fault that I have high standards for a girl?
Actually, I don't think they're too high. Shit. If I could introduce her to my mother, and we got along...I think that would be a good start. I'm tired of sleeping alone at night. Plus, I wouldn't mind doing it. haha.
We'll see what tomorrow brings. Fuck this paper.
Mas Amor!