creative turd
i dream of escapement and have been reading too much of authors from the beat generation. i finally acted and have a 2 week notice. i shall be free then. and i will sure be counting the days.
i am sick of what i must do. i don't believe i need good grammer. is that so wrong? i always have people coming down on me and they never tell me what i did wrong. so i don't understand. i blame it on my east vancouver education because it's so easy to. i blame my forgotten obvious psychotic problems on east vancouver education. the problems involving me not waking up-involving me being completely apathetic-and basically just be being a little turd. everyone who goes to that school is just the scrub of society so i guess i didn't stand out very much. but if i am in conversation with someone of a formal upbringing, i can see that i am more pixelated; i am rough around the edges and have not the tool to sharpen myself with. i accidently say something that's probably really inappropriate or something that should not be said. after i say it i realize that i shouldn't have said it.
i probably shouldn't keep bringing up the subject. i don't think i've ever told anyone; i get amusement out of making awkward conversation. i think my exact words were "my counselors never cared for me. i slept in through half of my high school and i never had anyone chasing after me" and there was dead silence. everyone looking at the floor. that's my form of learning; awkward conversation. and so just like people learn how to take in criticism, i've developed an appreciation of awkward moments. they are my teachers because i've never had any other.
and i've learned to follow the rules of social do's and don'ts. there are basic guidelines that have been imprinted into everyone's brain that should lead them into where the line has been crossed. i never had these. having relaxed parents who just survived free love, i used to never know when to draw the line. but now i know and i won't go into it. now that i have that line established, i wish i could cross it more often. but i know better.
i'm spending evenings with him alone in his room in a marijuanial haze. we play video games and every night i leave his house rather sad that he had not made a move on me. it is a extremely self-satisfying urge; lust. i would be better off without it but it is too good to give up on. and if he gave just one sign that he felt the same, i would melt into his arms! oh, how triumphant it would be! how my longings would be fulfilled! i've daydreamed scenes over and over through my mind. we could be lying in his bed listening to led zeppelin, counting the minutes until i would have to leave to work, and then - just like a dream - he would reach over, twirl one of my curls with his finger and say something like "josie, i'm madly in love with you" and i would be giddy with excitement and late for work.
ah, but these daydreams don't amount to anything. they just make me even more nervous and clumsy and not very charming when i do see him. they have the reverse effect, if anything. and sadly i've come to reality; i realized that any form of relationship would just turn out like any other. it would be good for 2 months and then the excitement would fail - the drive would fall - my longing for something stable would return once again. he would sense this and feel constrained. i would push for something more deeper, he would push to have more room.
i much rather stay single and be confident with many beautiful friends then suck the blood from a dying flame over and over again. i must be strong and not give in. my love is sent to my friends.
i am sick of what i must do. i don't believe i need good grammer. is that so wrong? i always have people coming down on me and they never tell me what i did wrong. so i don't understand. i blame it on my east vancouver education because it's so easy to. i blame my forgotten obvious psychotic problems on east vancouver education. the problems involving me not waking up-involving me being completely apathetic-and basically just be being a little turd. everyone who goes to that school is just the scrub of society so i guess i didn't stand out very much. but if i am in conversation with someone of a formal upbringing, i can see that i am more pixelated; i am rough around the edges and have not the tool to sharpen myself with. i accidently say something that's probably really inappropriate or something that should not be said. after i say it i realize that i shouldn't have said it.
i probably shouldn't keep bringing up the subject. i don't think i've ever told anyone; i get amusement out of making awkward conversation. i think my exact words were "my counselors never cared for me. i slept in through half of my high school and i never had anyone chasing after me" and there was dead silence. everyone looking at the floor. that's my form of learning; awkward conversation. and so just like people learn how to take in criticism, i've developed an appreciation of awkward moments. they are my teachers because i've never had any other.
and i've learned to follow the rules of social do's and don'ts. there are basic guidelines that have been imprinted into everyone's brain that should lead them into where the line has been crossed. i never had these. having relaxed parents who just survived free love, i used to never know when to draw the line. but now i know and i won't go into it. now that i have that line established, i wish i could cross it more often. but i know better.
i'm spending evenings with him alone in his room in a marijuanial haze. we play video games and every night i leave his house rather sad that he had not made a move on me. it is a extremely self-satisfying urge; lust. i would be better off without it but it is too good to give up on. and if he gave just one sign that he felt the same, i would melt into his arms! oh, how triumphant it would be! how my longings would be fulfilled! i've daydreamed scenes over and over through my mind. we could be lying in his bed listening to led zeppelin, counting the minutes until i would have to leave to work, and then - just like a dream - he would reach over, twirl one of my curls with his finger and say something like "josie, i'm madly in love with you" and i would be giddy with excitement and late for work.
ah, but these daydreams don't amount to anything. they just make me even more nervous and clumsy and not very charming when i do see him. they have the reverse effect, if anything. and sadly i've come to reality; i realized that any form of relationship would just turn out like any other. it would be good for 2 months and then the excitement would fail - the drive would fall - my longing for something stable would return once again. he would sense this and feel constrained. i would push for something more deeper, he would push to have more room.
i much rather stay single and be confident with many beautiful friends then suck the blood from a dying flame over and over again. i must be strong and not give in. my love is sent to my friends.