twinkle twinkle killer me
thats going to be the title of my third album, right there. fuckin A. i have a nice little plastic container of motts apple juice at hand, frosty-cold, a deck of camel lights about half full (hey i didnt say half EMPTY, will wonders never cease annmarie has turned optimist god works in mysterious ways hallelujah pass the mustard) and i am running on fumes and the shattered remnants of what was once my consciousness. i havent slept in 48 hours. this may be a little hard to follow. my very best writing is about as clear as an oil slick, so good luck making any sense at all out of this bullshit.
i really enjoy pulling all this shit on my system. i think its fun. you know how some plants take to the sun and the heat and blossom and bloom and some just shrivel up and die?
im dying.
this doesnt bother me nearly as much as it should.
shattered remnants.. is that some emo band? it sounds like an emo band.
fucking emo kids.
and hippies.
fuck the hippies too.
if you are half as quick as i think you are; it cannot have escaped your notice that i am terribly fond of the word Fuck.
thats why they call me Miss America. my natural charisma and inherent grace.
gag.
i confess i think rather highly of you as well. this is going to sound so snobby, but you really should think of that as a very high compliment. thats how selective i am. i take after my dad i suppose (alcoholic. brilliant. angst-ridden. alone.) and never really had any friends at all to speak of even when i was a little bitty annmarie. only child, dont you know. and my parents moved to a different part of michigan every 2 or 3 years. i figured out pretty early on that you are born alone, and you die alone. anything in between is nice, but its going to get snatched away. now, at 26, i can count my friends on one hand.
and that includes my husband.
maybe thats staggering. i really dont know. maybe it is a good thing. i can say with certainty that the friends i DO have will always be a part of my life. so maybe its not so bad that i am so picky and choosy. 171 words without a punchline.
no, im not an imposter.
i like you too. yes. i could just leave it at that and go about my merry way, stomping on all the momeraths, but i just dont make friends easily and i love making new friends.
ha.
ever seen May?
i love making new friends.
if i find someone that makes me think man, id like to have a real conversation with this person, i get excited. if you stop and think about it, most of our lives are spent watching the same commercials as everyone else, reading the same magazines, listening to the same music, repeating the same small talk to each other, watching the same television programs..
we are becoming insectile. like ants are. i am aware that i am probably shamelessly stealing some other persons idea here and i am doubtlessly mangling it all to hell, but i think you know what i mean.
we have been trained since we were little kids. since we were born. we are conditioned to behave a certain way. our lives are all planned out by our first breath.
this terrifies the hell out of me.
so i refuse to use correct punctuation and i insist on harsh language and i write cute little stories like 'Once upon a time there was a girl trapped on a desert island with midgets. she didnt have a boat so one night she slaughtered all the midgets in their sleep and tied them together to make a boat and she sailed off the island.
the boat sank and she drowned.'
i am just rebelling in some small way. im just attempting to be different. i dont want to be a sheep. so im not as hardcore as the unibomber. i dont know. its close. its real close. ive already been institutionalized. not because im crazy. for trying to commit suicide. i confess i was not trying very hard or i would have succeeded.
if i cant make myself laugh, i get really really scared.
dont worry. its perfectly ok if you think i am bonkers.
i feel that i should apologize. i really sound like an after school special sometimes. like Watch Out or You Could End Up Like This, Kids. dont do drugs. wash your hands. finish your peas.
i think youre awesome. i like your brains. ive said it before and ill say it again, if i were a zombie, youd be lunch. boy, i just keep topping myself here, dont i? you probably have no idea what the shit im going on about. you probably have mobs of friends beating a path to your door.
maybe not though. ive noticed in my 26 years that the coolest girl in the room rarely is the prom queen.
im pretty sure youre the coolest girl in the room.
in fact, id put money on it.
in the highly unlikely event that we should ever meet, i would really be honored if you would punch me in the face. fight club style. always wanted to get a good old fashioned passionate ass stomping. not in a sadomasochistic bullshit kind of way, just a fuckin knock down drag out.
besides, i look so awesome with a black eye.
now that youre seeking advice on obtaining a restraining order, i shall rest my weary, weary head and hope for pleasant nightmares. i have the most intense dreams.
but thats another kettle of fish altogether.
frankincense and myrrh,
-Jesus
i really enjoy pulling all this shit on my system. i think its fun. you know how some plants take to the sun and the heat and blossom and bloom and some just shrivel up and die?
im dying.
this doesnt bother me nearly as much as it should.
shattered remnants.. is that some emo band? it sounds like an emo band.
fucking emo kids.
and hippies.
fuck the hippies too.
if you are half as quick as i think you are; it cannot have escaped your notice that i am terribly fond of the word Fuck.
thats why they call me Miss America. my natural charisma and inherent grace.
gag.
i confess i think rather highly of you as well. this is going to sound so snobby, but you really should think of that as a very high compliment. thats how selective i am. i take after my dad i suppose (alcoholic. brilliant. angst-ridden. alone.) and never really had any friends at all to speak of even when i was a little bitty annmarie. only child, dont you know. and my parents moved to a different part of michigan every 2 or 3 years. i figured out pretty early on that you are born alone, and you die alone. anything in between is nice, but its going to get snatched away. now, at 26, i can count my friends on one hand.
and that includes my husband.
maybe thats staggering. i really dont know. maybe it is a good thing. i can say with certainty that the friends i DO have will always be a part of my life. so maybe its not so bad that i am so picky and choosy. 171 words without a punchline.
no, im not an imposter.
i like you too. yes. i could just leave it at that and go about my merry way, stomping on all the momeraths, but i just dont make friends easily and i love making new friends.
ha.
ever seen May?
i love making new friends.
if i find someone that makes me think man, id like to have a real conversation with this person, i get excited. if you stop and think about it, most of our lives are spent watching the same commercials as everyone else, reading the same magazines, listening to the same music, repeating the same small talk to each other, watching the same television programs..
we are becoming insectile. like ants are. i am aware that i am probably shamelessly stealing some other persons idea here and i am doubtlessly mangling it all to hell, but i think you know what i mean.
we have been trained since we were little kids. since we were born. we are conditioned to behave a certain way. our lives are all planned out by our first breath.
this terrifies the hell out of me.
so i refuse to use correct punctuation and i insist on harsh language and i write cute little stories like 'Once upon a time there was a girl trapped on a desert island with midgets. she didnt have a boat so one night she slaughtered all the midgets in their sleep and tied them together to make a boat and she sailed off the island.
the boat sank and she drowned.'
i am just rebelling in some small way. im just attempting to be different. i dont want to be a sheep. so im not as hardcore as the unibomber. i dont know. its close. its real close. ive already been institutionalized. not because im crazy. for trying to commit suicide. i confess i was not trying very hard or i would have succeeded.
if i cant make myself laugh, i get really really scared.
dont worry. its perfectly ok if you think i am bonkers.
i feel that i should apologize. i really sound like an after school special sometimes. like Watch Out or You Could End Up Like This, Kids. dont do drugs. wash your hands. finish your peas.
i think youre awesome. i like your brains. ive said it before and ill say it again, if i were a zombie, youd be lunch. boy, i just keep topping myself here, dont i? you probably have no idea what the shit im going on about. you probably have mobs of friends beating a path to your door.
maybe not though. ive noticed in my 26 years that the coolest girl in the room rarely is the prom queen.
im pretty sure youre the coolest girl in the room.
in fact, id put money on it.
in the highly unlikely event that we should ever meet, i would really be honored if you would punch me in the face. fight club style. always wanted to get a good old fashioned passionate ass stomping. not in a sadomasochistic bullshit kind of way, just a fuckin knock down drag out.
besides, i look so awesome with a black eye.
now that youre seeking advice on obtaining a restraining order, i shall rest my weary, weary head and hope for pleasant nightmares. i have the most intense dreams.
but thats another kettle of fish altogether.
frankincense and myrrh,
-Jesus