(no subject)
i'm getting that itchy urge to run again.
just take off. but i'm not feeling capable enough to make something happen at whatever destination so i know i'll come crawling back. maybe it's the inability to feel happy. i trick myself into feeling ok. but it's not an easy thing to turn a goth into a glowing ray of sunshine. i have a boyfriend who loves me. i love him. i can't imagine being with anyone else. i think there is something he's not telling me. maybe i'm expecting too much from him with how simple i want things to be. i hate making him feel like i don't trust him or like i'm disappointed in him. i can take the littlest gesture to heart and i keep analyzing it until i have an ulcer. what i'm feeling about myself has nothing to do with him and i think it's hard for him to see me listening to some silly song and totally having tears pour out my eyes over a pile of food that would normally make me happy. i can't put into words what i'm feeling so i try to explain and everything i say is wrong and ends up being misunderstood and like a broken record. i realize that nobody is going to fix me. that's a hard thing for me to think because i really don't have the energy to make a life ok for myself. i'm 22 and i have no idea what i want to do with my life. no idea. i feel more lost than i have ever in my whole life. when i was younger i didn't even bother to think about things like what i would do let alone how to move my feet. i had a confidence in the fact that i didn't question things. i am spending the days in giant shalom tshirts and boxers. this isn't what i expected. it's cute to be a little weird and sad when you're young but once you get wrinkly the only company to expect is abandoned animals. i would like to do something with my life. create stuff. maybe survive on making that stuff. but i don't even feel like getting out of bed sometimes. ugh. it's always the same story. i have the worst flu right now so i'm hoping maybe the gloom will pass with it. i spend the days reading books and watching movies. yesterday i read the human factor and watched vivre sa vie and grave of the fireflies. those were all good and made me cry but didn't really say anything to me about what the hell to do. just kinda affirmed the sadness. i try to do things like only listen to gangsta shit. watch dumb dumb movies. read star magazine. keep it light. like last night i got pretty stoned and fought people on literati for a good few hours. one guy kept telling me to bowdown and i was actually loling quite a bit but then of course the fist returns to squeeze my guts and make me die a little more inside.
i think a lot of my problems are due to the fact that the relationship i have with my parents has always been retarded. my dad is ok but so immature and can be really rude at times. not really supportive. i feel older than him. and my mom. well if you want to know what my mom is like watch grave of the fireflies and the woman that takes the kids in is pretty much the closest character i have ever seen portrayed that is like my mom. she also goes to safeway and buys those dented tins that are marked down. we aren't poor. we don't need to buy the gross cans. sometimes i look through her cupboards and see some kind of giant bag of treat and eat it and feel so sick after and then notice the 25 cent penmark written over the upc code and go, oh yah ok. there are like 7 cans of okra on the top shelf. probably for like a few years. i mean i am totally down with a good bargain. seriously. i like a bargain. but i don't want some rotten easter candy to take my life. that would be a pathetic way to go. she looks at me like i am some kind of vermin and has never told me anything positive. up until i was about 7 they were fine. they let me do my own thing and i ran around. they were total hippies and then we moved all the way across the country and back and they found god etc. i went to like 13 elementary schools growing up. but whatever. it's just hard that i have to start over and raise myself since i never really had that. but i know it's something very few people really have. if you do be thankful. i have never felt comfort from them and this in turn makes it pretty hard to make any other relationships. i sometimes feel myself wishing that the nice wonderful lady at the delicious all you can eat indian food place would be my mom. like she is pouring some refreshing ice cold cold water out of her fancy metal pitcher with the little condensation dew drops on the outside into my glass and i have a delicious chunk of butter chicken just melting in my mouth and i just want her to hug me and make me ok. or like marg from csi will be laughing on like david letterman or something and seeming all nice and momlike and i just wish i could see what it was like for a day to have a mom who was all into buying some shoes and than eating like a lunch and telling me useful information. oh well.
on friday night i had the most disturbing dream. more lucid dreams lately but this one wasn't. i was with all these people who were being hung and it was really really fucked up. i could feel people tying ropes around my neck and i could hear screaming and i woke up terrified and sweaty and couldn't get back to sleep. but then on monday night i had the best dream. snoop dogg and i were a duo and we kept going to parties and were bobbing on the dancefloor but sometimes i would wile out and i would feel hands on my shoulders lift me up. it was snoop lifting me up to eyelevel so he could tell me to chill. he said so much with so few words. he would open the eyeslits a little bigger on really serious parts and i would feel what he was saying. he was teaching me the way of the dogg. in my dream he was so tall that all the smoke he was blowing out of his mouth was around his head in a cloud so it was hard to see his cornrows. it was such a good dream. it was like he was teaching me how to be a better me. i hope he has a regular appearance. it was kind of like he was gandalf and buddha and snoop all rolled into one.
on the weekend i pretty much wrestled a black man for 10 minutes for an inflatable stag party goat. i had a emotional attachment to said goat. earlier in the night i sent this old man with serious boobs to gallop around the bar on it. and he did. it was best 15 minutes of my life. this old man had dyed black flat ironed hair and boobs. and was running around the bar whooping while the occupants of the bar were watching the forlorn mourning band on stage. at one point i rammed my beer bottle up the inflatable goats bumhole which is horrible of me. so it was beer bottle up poor butt with boobman riding it. dudes cheering score. i overheard a group of men telling eachother that i am the kind of girl to be careful of. and shit, i couldn't agree more. mouths dropped and i was seriously loving life. like that twinkling glow inside that all is well. i think it partly had to do with the constant drip of gin caesars and beer into mouth. the next day i was badly hungover and just floated in outdoor pool and then it started raining and now i am very sick and fever and grosstown.
i mean i love looking at the humorous side of thing but it gets kind of hard when you are so tired and your tshirt is so ugly and your socks don't match and like you can't even bother fixing something as small as that.
EMERGENCY CASESSSSSSSSSSS
just take off. but i'm not feeling capable enough to make something happen at whatever destination so i know i'll come crawling back. maybe it's the inability to feel happy. i trick myself into feeling ok. but it's not an easy thing to turn a goth into a glowing ray of sunshine. i have a boyfriend who loves me. i love him. i can't imagine being with anyone else. i think there is something he's not telling me. maybe i'm expecting too much from him with how simple i want things to be. i hate making him feel like i don't trust him or like i'm disappointed in him. i can take the littlest gesture to heart and i keep analyzing it until i have an ulcer. what i'm feeling about myself has nothing to do with him and i think it's hard for him to see me listening to some silly song and totally having tears pour out my eyes over a pile of food that would normally make me happy. i can't put into words what i'm feeling so i try to explain and everything i say is wrong and ends up being misunderstood and like a broken record. i realize that nobody is going to fix me. that's a hard thing for me to think because i really don't have the energy to make a life ok for myself. i'm 22 and i have no idea what i want to do with my life. no idea. i feel more lost than i have ever in my whole life. when i was younger i didn't even bother to think about things like what i would do let alone how to move my feet. i had a confidence in the fact that i didn't question things. i am spending the days in giant shalom tshirts and boxers. this isn't what i expected. it's cute to be a little weird and sad when you're young but once you get wrinkly the only company to expect is abandoned animals. i would like to do something with my life. create stuff. maybe survive on making that stuff. but i don't even feel like getting out of bed sometimes. ugh. it's always the same story. i have the worst flu right now so i'm hoping maybe the gloom will pass with it. i spend the days reading books and watching movies. yesterday i read the human factor and watched vivre sa vie and grave of the fireflies. those were all good and made me cry but didn't really say anything to me about what the hell to do. just kinda affirmed the sadness. i try to do things like only listen to gangsta shit. watch dumb dumb movies. read star magazine. keep it light. like last night i got pretty stoned and fought people on literati for a good few hours. one guy kept telling me to bowdown and i was actually loling quite a bit but then of course the fist returns to squeeze my guts and make me die a little more inside.
i think a lot of my problems are due to the fact that the relationship i have with my parents has always been retarded. my dad is ok but so immature and can be really rude at times. not really supportive. i feel older than him. and my mom. well if you want to know what my mom is like watch grave of the fireflies and the woman that takes the kids in is pretty much the closest character i have ever seen portrayed that is like my mom. she also goes to safeway and buys those dented tins that are marked down. we aren't poor. we don't need to buy the gross cans. sometimes i look through her cupboards and see some kind of giant bag of treat and eat it and feel so sick after and then notice the 25 cent penmark written over the upc code and go, oh yah ok. there are like 7 cans of okra on the top shelf. probably for like a few years. i mean i am totally down with a good bargain. seriously. i like a bargain. but i don't want some rotten easter candy to take my life. that would be a pathetic way to go. she looks at me like i am some kind of vermin and has never told me anything positive. up until i was about 7 they were fine. they let me do my own thing and i ran around. they were total hippies and then we moved all the way across the country and back and they found god etc. i went to like 13 elementary schools growing up. but whatever. it's just hard that i have to start over and raise myself since i never really had that. but i know it's something very few people really have. if you do be thankful. i have never felt comfort from them and this in turn makes it pretty hard to make any other relationships. i sometimes feel myself wishing that the nice wonderful lady at the delicious all you can eat indian food place would be my mom. like she is pouring some refreshing ice cold cold water out of her fancy metal pitcher with the little condensation dew drops on the outside into my glass and i have a delicious chunk of butter chicken just melting in my mouth and i just want her to hug me and make me ok. or like marg from csi will be laughing on like david letterman or something and seeming all nice and momlike and i just wish i could see what it was like for a day to have a mom who was all into buying some shoes and than eating like a lunch and telling me useful information. oh well.
on friday night i had the most disturbing dream. more lucid dreams lately but this one wasn't. i was with all these people who were being hung and it was really really fucked up. i could feel people tying ropes around my neck and i could hear screaming and i woke up terrified and sweaty and couldn't get back to sleep. but then on monday night i had the best dream. snoop dogg and i were a duo and we kept going to parties and were bobbing on the dancefloor but sometimes i would wile out and i would feel hands on my shoulders lift me up. it was snoop lifting me up to eyelevel so he could tell me to chill. he said so much with so few words. he would open the eyeslits a little bigger on really serious parts and i would feel what he was saying. he was teaching me the way of the dogg. in my dream he was so tall that all the smoke he was blowing out of his mouth was around his head in a cloud so it was hard to see his cornrows. it was such a good dream. it was like he was teaching me how to be a better me. i hope he has a regular appearance. it was kind of like he was gandalf and buddha and snoop all rolled into one.
on the weekend i pretty much wrestled a black man for 10 minutes for an inflatable stag party goat. i had a emotional attachment to said goat. earlier in the night i sent this old man with serious boobs to gallop around the bar on it. and he did. it was best 15 minutes of my life. this old man had dyed black flat ironed hair and boobs. and was running around the bar whooping while the occupants of the bar were watching the forlorn mourning band on stage. at one point i rammed my beer bottle up the inflatable goats bumhole which is horrible of me. so it was beer bottle up poor butt with boobman riding it. dudes cheering score. i overheard a group of men telling eachother that i am the kind of girl to be careful of. and shit, i couldn't agree more. mouths dropped and i was seriously loving life. like that twinkling glow inside that all is well. i think it partly had to do with the constant drip of gin caesars and beer into mouth. the next day i was badly hungover and just floated in outdoor pool and then it started raining and now i am very sick and fever and grosstown.
i mean i love looking at the humorous side of thing but it gets kind of hard when you are so tired and your tshirt is so ugly and your socks don't match and like you can't even bother fixing something as small as that.
EMERGENCY CASESSSSSSSSSSS