Dormiria por dias.
She brushed the dog's hair and it went everywhere around her. All over the ground around her feet. It was disgusting. I kept staring at the scattered remains of the daffodils I'd been picking at. I cleared the area surrounding me of grass and flowers. I cried and thought, Jeez, Mom, just hit me on all sides, please. The thing is, I know she means well somewhere in there. Something keeps telling me that she is trying to help me. I don't want to hate my mother.
(i am a seventeen year old chain smoker. i have predictable and mediocre taste but sometimes i love those goddamn songs so much i laugh when i'm singing them. i probably want to be pretty more than i want anything else, and i guess it's always been like that. as long as i look good doing whatever i'm doing. i am shallow and selfish and i wish i could find someone who could understand me. besides agatha, who is also shallow and selfish and fucking beautiful. i want to go back to that day in the bed with her. everything was white and green and the wind was pulling through the open windows. drinking and smoking and listening to music. she said something about look at where we are now, kerry. look at what we've grown into. and she threw her arms around me and her head was so cold against mine. she sighed and we laughed and kept drinking. i want to go back to saturday, drunk with green eyes in the sunshine. swimming with snakes and walking down the road in my underwear. i don't like today. i don't want to think about any of this.)
I want so badly to meet new people. I love everyone around me so much, and shit that sounds like a lie, like the beginning of a bad breakup, but it's true. I really love all of them. I fucking adore them, even that bitch. But I need something different, a new scene. A new environment altogether. My dream, my favorite fantasy, is to just disappear. To get on a bus to whatever state I choose. Somewhere sunny and warm, with beaches and parties and miles and miles of flat land. Hundreds of miles from almost everyone I know, with the exception of a blonde waiting for me at the bus station. And you can bet she would fucking be there.
She's always there.
(i am a seventeen year old chain smoker. i have predictable and mediocre taste but sometimes i love those goddamn songs so much i laugh when i'm singing them. i probably want to be pretty more than i want anything else, and i guess it's always been like that. as long as i look good doing whatever i'm doing. i am shallow and selfish and i wish i could find someone who could understand me. besides agatha, who is also shallow and selfish and fucking beautiful. i want to go back to that day in the bed with her. everything was white and green and the wind was pulling through the open windows. drinking and smoking and listening to music. she said something about look at where we are now, kerry. look at what we've grown into. and she threw her arms around me and her head was so cold against mine. she sighed and we laughed and kept drinking. i want to go back to saturday, drunk with green eyes in the sunshine. swimming with snakes and walking down the road in my underwear. i don't like today. i don't want to think about any of this.)
I want so badly to meet new people. I love everyone around me so much, and shit that sounds like a lie, like the beginning of a bad breakup, but it's true. I really love all of them. I fucking adore them, even that bitch. But I need something different, a new scene. A new environment altogether. My dream, my favorite fantasy, is to just disappear. To get on a bus to whatever state I choose. Somewhere sunny and warm, with beaches and parties and miles and miles of flat land. Hundreds of miles from almost everyone I know, with the exception of a blonde waiting for me at the bus station. And you can bet she would fucking be there.
She's always there.