(no subject)
Well, well, well, today has been an interesting day. That grahzny bratchny of a ptista yelled at me this morn for not coming home last night w/ her bus pass, and saying things the likes of "you're selfish," and "don't talk to me," and "kiss-my-sharries, you grahzny bratchny," and the like. What she doesn't realize that I got home early enough to ensure that she could rabbit round at the shop on time. Not that horrorshow, not at seven o'clock in the A.M. So, she left all ed, shaking her rookers and giving me the glazzies of ne'er-do-well. Well, I want her to know that if I was really being selfish, I wouldn't have come back at all. That devotchka understands not how I feel, nor does she respect me, so lip music to her. I think it would almost be better if I was just given the old Ludovico treatment much like My Friend and Humble Narrator, Alex. There is nothing left for me to do except the ultraviolence or the old in-out-in-out, yet I feel as though I should still snuff it and let her go on into a cold world without my protective glazzy awatching out for her. She doesn't grasp the amount of things I have done for her, nor does she seem to even care. I'm tired of her taking advantage of me just because of how I feel about her. I will not stand for it, not no longer. My sister asked me if I was ok this afternoon, after I finally came to, and all I could tell her was, "Naw, man, I'm pretty in' far from ok." And it's true, I want nothing to do with this world any longer, or any of the grahzny bratchnies that live in it. This place is a far cry from horrorshow, far indeed. Even the old moloko plus isn't enough to make me want to stay. But I have to see the Physics project through. Normal Heights is dropping soon, and I need a guitar to play soon, or I'm going to lose my mind. There is no hope for someone like me, I guess I have to create my own luck. Anyway, I'm over this whole charade of being nice to her even though she burns me every time, she wants to see selfish, then see better be careful of what she wishes for. Needful Things (Stephen King) should have taught her that. Oh, well. Off into the cold nochy I'll itty, because I can't itty homeways, ever again.