.... (i hope you read this.)
So here I am again, typing away like a little computer dork. I like this about livejournal, it's always gonna be there right when I need it. I just wish some people were the same way.
So DannyBoy's coming back down the 19th, and I don't know WHAT to expect. Has my close friend evolved much? Have his friends evolved in HIS eyes? [Yeah Daniel I'm talking about you in my lj whilst you sit and read it. You BETTER sit and read it, I don't do this often.]
I just realized I haven't updated in FORever. I see lj has new features. Scrapbook??? Someone please explain...
Well y'all know I'm as happy as a girl, and I try to read your entries but I find myself only skimming and staring at the pictures. I guess MySpace was invented for superficial people like me.
Short paragraphs. Show. How. Weirdly. I think, and it's not a very ."cool". kind of weird either...
.,/1234!@#$5678%^&*90()-_+=/*-~` <---haven't typed these in a while.
It pisses me off that I can't press the tab key to indent my paragraphs. (damn BCIS...)
Nonetheless, I can't wait to see him. I can't wait to see you, Daniel. Where the fuck have you been? I guess you were grounded AND home-schooled because
I haven't seen you around here in a while...
When you fly down, we'll all greet you ohsowarmly, and you'll give us good pokes in our bellies after noticing our midsections so wonderfully exposed by our trembling, outstretched arms.
A lukewarm gesture, as always.
Indeed, what can I expect but the Same, as always?
You always did have a way for picking up right where you left off... I just wish you had more time to continue.
Every time I look at Adrianna I can't help but think of the times we all had together. I see she's got the longing for your arrival buried as deeply within her as it is within the rest of us.
But what are we waiting for? Longing for? A few weeks of seeing you again and then what?
Don't even think about how awkward it will feel in the waiting for you again, hoping to see you in the summer.
Too much like long-distance relationships.
Too much like daisyandjoelism, with its long-discontinued rituals still playing over and over in my mind. Like going through old pictures to see if I missed a minor detail, anything to give me more insight.
Well I've looked and I've looked... and I don't think I missed anything.
No, I most certainly didn't miss anything.
And I most certainly don't miss anything.
Our relationship, even to the point of acquaintanceship, is dead to the world. He went through his post break-up pain, and then later so did I. I paid my dues, and so did he. Now we're both happy campers, as long as we're miles away from each other. Miles and miles away from each other. Just as it always should have been.
>>
I've had these things buried in me for some time now, and though I had let them out orally, nothing feels as good as pseudo-publishing my airy thoughts desperately in need for some grounding in my Mushroomchimeric LiveJournal.
LiveJournal. The ex--I've-got-it-and-you-don't online blog, now taken for granted by the vast majority of people with internet access, probably one third of which had to get theirs when you needed an account-creation-password.
Funny how things unfold, isn't it?
Yes, I touch myself. Yes, you know you do it too. Yes, I take craps that don't smell like marigolds. You know you do it too.
Yes, I cry when I feel lonely.
Yes, I love a-dozen-roses and poems and songs-written-for-daisy along with all those other cheesy romanticisms.
Yes, I've been suicidal.
Yes, I've been insecure to the point of anorexia.
Yes, I've been sexually harrassed/molested.
Yes, I throw fits when things don't go my way.
Yes, I get mad easily.
Yes, I can be a bitch and a pain in the ass.
Yes, I'm a conformist.
Yes, I'm an anti-conformist.
Yes, I'm a hypocrite.
Yes, I'm a liar.
Yes, I pick up M&Ms when they have only been on the floor under 5 seconds.
Yes, I wear bras that are too small for me.
Yes, I forget to brush my teeth now and again.
Yes, I shower almost every day.
Yes, I care about how I look.
Yes, I love my boyfriend.
Yes, I love my family and friends.
Yes, I wet the bed when I was small.
Yes, I find the small things to be more insightful.
Yes, I've wanted to kill someone before.
Yes, I've even had dreams about it.
Yes, I drink way too much Coke.
Yes, I think too much for my own good.
You know you all have experienced it too.
No one person is completely alone or more troubled than anybody else or has been through more than anyone else, because we all put ourselves through troublesome times and pick up bad habits. Whether they regard school habits that deteriorate your mind by overstudying or abuse of drugs or sex or both or anything else, bad habits are all just as bad as any others, no matter what.
If we could just remember our appearance is only a logically visual and tangible manifestation of uncontrollable DNA patterns and that we all eat, crap, fart, piss, sleep, think, blow our noses, and pop our zits relatively alike, then maybe we could stop this social hierarchy of ourselves and other people. If we could all just own up and say, in the end, if we were in the same EXACT situation as someone else, we probably would have made the same mistakes, then maybe we would realize that morals should not necessarily define a person. So what if someone likes to run away from problems? So what if someone deals with theirs in a slightly harmful but otherwise not fatal way? Why MUST everyone remain stable and happy and safe and secure by 1-800-RUNAWAY hotline standards?
Why not just let people be what they are? Sick, sad, happy, superficial, deep, wise, dumb, hypocritical people.
Just like in government, there will always be corruption among people. Nevertheless, we're all just a bunch of animals who got too smart for our own good, and we should all recognize that we're all made up of the same shit. All the lies, truths, good and bad experiences and habits--they make us all. No single person is more anything than the person sitting next to him.
(Believe it, we live in an androcentric society; Truth: Saying "him/her" would downright ruin my emphasis on people in general. But why do I even bother mentioning it?)
Please don't sit there and try to argue with me with an opposing comment or bring up some other issue, because that's lame. Let me express myself without having to be challenged.
**No, I don't love English because of some cliche like the "orderliness I find in it that the human race lacks," I just love it for the sake of English and writing and literature.
Not that anyone accused me, but I just felt like saying it.
That's what LiveJournal is, or should be, all about: Saying whatever the fuck your little black heart wants, not caring one damn bit about staying inoffensive.
Yours truly,
Daisy.
p.s.-- maybe if I spaced my sentences and words further apart, it would get my meaning across better, but most everyone misses the point anyway; I wouldn't be surprised if a few months went by before someone decided to read this and comment. Oh, and please comment if you read, even if you're not on my friends list... I would really like to know who read this long and somewhat annoying entry. It would mean a lot to me.
thanks, livejournal users.
Until my next blog, I fare thee well.
So DannyBoy's coming back down the 19th, and I don't know WHAT to expect. Has my close friend evolved much? Have his friends evolved in HIS eyes? [Yeah Daniel I'm talking about you in my lj whilst you sit and read it. You BETTER sit and read it, I don't do this often.]
I just realized I haven't updated in FORever. I see lj has new features. Scrapbook??? Someone please explain...
Well y'all know I'm as happy as a girl, and I try to read your entries but I find myself only skimming and staring at the pictures. I guess MySpace was invented for superficial people like me.
Short paragraphs. Show. How. Weirdly. I think, and it's not a very ."cool". kind of weird either...
.,/1234!@#$5678%^&*90()-_+=/*-~` <---haven't typed these in a while.
It pisses me off that I can't press the tab key to indent my paragraphs. (damn BCIS...)
Nonetheless, I can't wait to see him. I can't wait to see you, Daniel. Where the fuck have you been? I guess you were grounded AND home-schooled because
I haven't seen you around here in a while...
When you fly down, we'll all greet you ohsowarmly, and you'll give us good pokes in our bellies after noticing our midsections so wonderfully exposed by our trembling, outstretched arms.
A lukewarm gesture, as always.
Indeed, what can I expect but the Same, as always?
You always did have a way for picking up right where you left off... I just wish you had more time to continue.
Every time I look at Adrianna I can't help but think of the times we all had together. I see she's got the longing for your arrival buried as deeply within her as it is within the rest of us.
But what are we waiting for? Longing for? A few weeks of seeing you again and then what?
Don't even think about how awkward it will feel in the waiting for you again, hoping to see you in the summer.
Too much like long-distance relationships.
Too much like daisyandjoelism, with its long-discontinued rituals still playing over and over in my mind. Like going through old pictures to see if I missed a minor detail, anything to give me more insight.
Well I've looked and I've looked... and I don't think I missed anything.
No, I most certainly didn't miss anything.
And I most certainly don't miss anything.
Our relationship, even to the point of acquaintanceship, is dead to the world. He went through his post break-up pain, and then later so did I. I paid my dues, and so did he. Now we're both happy campers, as long as we're miles away from each other. Miles and miles away from each other. Just as it always should have been.
>>
I've had these things buried in me for some time now, and though I had let them out orally, nothing feels as good as pseudo-publishing my airy thoughts desperately in need for some grounding in my Mushroomchimeric LiveJournal.
LiveJournal. The ex--I've-got-it-and-you-don't online blog, now taken for granted by the vast majority of people with internet access, probably one third of which had to get theirs when you needed an account-creation-password.
Funny how things unfold, isn't it?
Yes, I touch myself. Yes, you know you do it too. Yes, I take craps that don't smell like marigolds. You know you do it too.
Yes, I cry when I feel lonely.
Yes, I love a-dozen-roses and poems and songs-written-for-daisy along with all those other cheesy romanticisms.
Yes, I've been suicidal.
Yes, I've been insecure to the point of anorexia.
Yes, I've been sexually harrassed/molested.
Yes, I throw fits when things don't go my way.
Yes, I get mad easily.
Yes, I can be a bitch and a pain in the ass.
Yes, I'm a conformist.
Yes, I'm an anti-conformist.
Yes, I'm a hypocrite.
Yes, I'm a liar.
Yes, I pick up M&Ms when they have only been on the floor under 5 seconds.
Yes, I wear bras that are too small for me.
Yes, I forget to brush my teeth now and again.
Yes, I shower almost every day.
Yes, I care about how I look.
Yes, I love my boyfriend.
Yes, I love my family and friends.
Yes, I wet the bed when I was small.
Yes, I find the small things to be more insightful.
Yes, I've wanted to kill someone before.
Yes, I've even had dreams about it.
Yes, I drink way too much Coke.
Yes, I think too much for my own good.
You know you all have experienced it too.
No one person is completely alone or more troubled than anybody else or has been through more than anyone else, because we all put ourselves through troublesome times and pick up bad habits. Whether they regard school habits that deteriorate your mind by overstudying or abuse of drugs or sex or both or anything else, bad habits are all just as bad as any others, no matter what.
If we could just remember our appearance is only a logically visual and tangible manifestation of uncontrollable DNA patterns and that we all eat, crap, fart, piss, sleep, think, blow our noses, and pop our zits relatively alike, then maybe we could stop this social hierarchy of ourselves and other people. If we could all just own up and say, in the end, if we were in the same EXACT situation as someone else, we probably would have made the same mistakes, then maybe we would realize that morals should not necessarily define a person. So what if someone likes to run away from problems? So what if someone deals with theirs in a slightly harmful but otherwise not fatal way? Why MUST everyone remain stable and happy and safe and secure by 1-800-RUNAWAY hotline standards?
Why not just let people be what they are? Sick, sad, happy, superficial, deep, wise, dumb, hypocritical people.
Just like in government, there will always be corruption among people. Nevertheless, we're all just a bunch of animals who got too smart for our own good, and we should all recognize that we're all made up of the same shit. All the lies, truths, good and bad experiences and habits--they make us all. No single person is more anything than the person sitting next to him.
(Believe it, we live in an androcentric society; Truth: Saying "him/her" would downright ruin my emphasis on people in general. But why do I even bother mentioning it?)
Please don't sit there and try to argue with me with an opposing comment or bring up some other issue, because that's lame. Let me express myself without having to be challenged.
**No, I don't love English because of some cliche like the "orderliness I find in it that the human race lacks," I just love it for the sake of English and writing and literature.
Not that anyone accused me, but I just felt like saying it.
That's what LiveJournal is, or should be, all about: Saying whatever the fuck your little black heart wants, not caring one damn bit about staying inoffensive.
Yours truly,
Daisy.
p.s.-- maybe if I spaced my sentences and words further apart, it would get my meaning across better, but most everyone misses the point anyway; I wouldn't be surprised if a few months went by before someone decided to read this and comment. Oh, and please comment if you read, even if you're not on my friends list... I would really like to know who read this long and somewhat annoying entry. It would mean a lot to me.
thanks, livejournal users.
Until my next blog, I fare thee well.