Paper, pen and the Bled
(4/13)11:05 pm.
It's technically my second day of spring break considering I get the weekends off like all normal american teens do; and I spent this day in SanFransisco
at mom's work. Exciting. Very exciting. I'm guessing it's off to grandmother's house tomarrow since spending the weekend with you was too much for him to allow me to go anywhere else, because I'm just ALWAYS doing something aren't I Casey; it's always movies or the mall every damn weekend. Ok, we both understand that was an extensive act of sarcasim. But let's not complain; grandma's house is by far less excrusiating than spending the entire day in the Concord junk yard, having thumb wars with myself while I wait for dad to peek in the window and say "one more minute". I love this pen, don't you? I don't know, maybe we'll go to luch or to the mall(something simple) but on second thought, there's always crusty baby to ruin any chance of grandma buying anything for me, by kicking and screaming bloody murder on the way there. Hmm, maybe she'll keep still for once or maybe everything that can go wrong will. Boy do I enjoy writting about how my day will crash and burn before anything has had a chance to happen. Wow, I just found ten dollars in my bra. How'd that get there......heh, I'm actually thinking about it. Lately I have had less and less to think about that I just break loose from reality and find myself pondering about who's brilliant idea it was to tell young children the moon is made out of real swiss cheese. Soon enough I'm considering the possibility that maybe just maybe it is, in fact, made out of cheese but some foreign type, like space-cheese. That was a lie. Had a long talk with Roni today. She reminds me everyday how I hate people with egos dripping out their ears it's so big. The closer your head comes to exploding, the closer your heart comes to dissapearing. Wouldn't you hate to have both happen at once?
I hate how ironic and cynical everything is.
I hate it how adults tell me I've learned.
I hate it how the weatherman is never sure about the weather anymore.
I hate getting stomache aches when I'm not sick and listening to the unpleasant moaning of my tummy when I'm hungry.
I hate the surprised look on people's faces when I tell them I own Frank Sinatra's Greatest Hits.
I hate it when my Lucky Charms are soggy by the time I reach the top of the staris to my room.
I hate mornings.
I hate controll in the worng hands.
I hate gifts of sympathy and cards with only your name signed at the bottom.
I hate wearing pants where the zipper won't stay up.
I hate how my bed is now my cats' and having to wake up with black fur in my nose.
I hate the word pimp and faggot.
I hate how jealousy looses friends and how pretend appologies bring them back.
I hate how I look down before up.
I hate how being young means being equally old.
I hate how ignored futility causes heartbreaks.
I hate how appreciation comes so cheap and yet costs you everything you hold so dear.
I hate how frail my wrists are and how my hip bones press so violently against the metals on my belt.
I hate hiding from my family and crying to my friends.
I hate how being alternative is being cool.
I hate how much people don't know about these days.
I hate all that I HAVE to say.
It's technically my second day of spring break considering I get the weekends off like all normal american teens do; and I spent this day in SanFransisco
at mom's work. Exciting. Very exciting. I'm guessing it's off to grandmother's house tomarrow since spending the weekend with you was too much for him to allow me to go anywhere else, because I'm just ALWAYS doing something aren't I Casey; it's always movies or the mall every damn weekend. Ok, we both understand that was an extensive act of sarcasim. But let's not complain; grandma's house is by far less excrusiating than spending the entire day in the Concord junk yard, having thumb wars with myself while I wait for dad to peek in the window and say "one more minute". I love this pen, don't you? I don't know, maybe we'll go to luch or to the mall(something simple) but on second thought, there's always crusty baby to ruin any chance of grandma buying anything for me, by kicking and screaming bloody murder on the way there. Hmm, maybe she'll keep still for once or maybe everything that can go wrong will. Boy do I enjoy writting about how my day will crash and burn before anything has had a chance to happen. Wow, I just found ten dollars in my bra. How'd that get there......heh, I'm actually thinking about it. Lately I have had less and less to think about that I just break loose from reality and find myself pondering about who's brilliant idea it was to tell young children the moon is made out of real swiss cheese. Soon enough I'm considering the possibility that maybe just maybe it is, in fact, made out of cheese but some foreign type, like space-cheese. That was a lie. Had a long talk with Roni today. She reminds me everyday how I hate people with egos dripping out their ears it's so big. The closer your head comes to exploding, the closer your heart comes to dissapearing. Wouldn't you hate to have both happen at once?
I hate how ironic and cynical everything is.
I hate it how adults tell me I've learned.
I hate it how the weatherman is never sure about the weather anymore.
I hate getting stomache aches when I'm not sick and listening to the unpleasant moaning of my tummy when I'm hungry.
I hate the surprised look on people's faces when I tell them I own Frank Sinatra's Greatest Hits.
I hate it when my Lucky Charms are soggy by the time I reach the top of the staris to my room.
I hate mornings.
I hate controll in the worng hands.
I hate gifts of sympathy and cards with only your name signed at the bottom.
I hate wearing pants where the zipper won't stay up.
I hate how my bed is now my cats' and having to wake up with black fur in my nose.
I hate the word pimp and faggot.
I hate how jealousy looses friends and how pretend appologies bring them back.
I hate how I look down before up.
I hate how being young means being equally old.
I hate how ignored futility causes heartbreaks.
I hate how appreciation comes so cheap and yet costs you everything you hold so dear.
I hate how frail my wrists are and how my hip bones press so violently against the metals on my belt.
I hate hiding from my family and crying to my friends.
I hate how being alternative is being cool.
I hate how much people don't know about these days.
I hate all that I HAVE to say.