(no subject)
I'm so cold.
Congratulations on history papers!
I don't know why I'm in pain.
rebmeced.
"I love school. that's why I am taking all these classes!"//
"Your body language betrays you!"
clenched, icy cold and bent.
esidarap.
why? why?
why jean?
(don't worry-I couldn't answer that question either.)
I'm sick of this; "it doesn't make any sense that you exist" (direct quote from Sam to William, just overheard).
Am I angry or tired or stressed? I can't tell. Lucky I don't post my dreams. "go madcap heart, go dream of never waking and in thy dreams forget that thou art breaking, ah misery". I'm glad not to be a lovesick maiden; it would be such a waste of time. I bet some of the kings of England were actually closet women! Female Kings! Gold/Silver, King/Queen, Adam/Eve, God/Satan. "and perhaps a thing not undesirable, sometime superior; for inferior who is free?" I feel like there is a cord running from the center of my skull to my abdomin; I'm twisting and ripping at it, gnawing it, crumpling it relentlessly like paper and flowers and skin and anything else unfortunate enough to enter my jittering, flickering hands. I wonder what stage of mourning I am in: Denial, perhaps? I definitely feel like chewing up my fingers, gnawing to the bone. comb, foam, slope, pulsar! dogi leef aft! This is a pointless entry, engry, angry, freudian typo evolves, serves as an intermediary between wish fulfillment and coding. I definitely need to vent about something, but I'm not sure. It is frustrating to be so out of touch when one is usually well-grounded. maybe the cord runs through my mouth and out some hole right under my ribcage; someone is drawing on the line and it is so cold. my heart is beating fast, fast. swelling chills-just like the beach! Would you guys join me at the beach, on the bank of the tumid river? night-swimming with the jellyfish, anchored and kited! crucified between two fishing lines, one string from above and one below! Let's camp out on an island somewhere; who cares about the cold? bury ourselves in wet soft sand, breathe like clams, calm calm clams! only crocodile tears...
Congratulations on history papers!
I don't know why I'm in pain.
rebmeced.
"I love school. that's why I am taking all these classes!"//
"Your body language betrays you!"
clenched, icy cold and bent.
esidarap.
why? why?
why jean?
(don't worry-I couldn't answer that question either.)
I'm sick of this; "it doesn't make any sense that you exist" (direct quote from Sam to William, just overheard).
Am I angry or tired or stressed? I can't tell. Lucky I don't post my dreams. "go madcap heart, go dream of never waking and in thy dreams forget that thou art breaking, ah misery". I'm glad not to be a lovesick maiden; it would be such a waste of time. I bet some of the kings of England were actually closet women! Female Kings! Gold/Silver, King/Queen, Adam/Eve, God/Satan. "and perhaps a thing not undesirable, sometime superior; for inferior who is free?" I feel like there is a cord running from the center of my skull to my abdomin; I'm twisting and ripping at it, gnawing it, crumpling it relentlessly like paper and flowers and skin and anything else unfortunate enough to enter my jittering, flickering hands. I wonder what stage of mourning I am in: Denial, perhaps? I definitely feel like chewing up my fingers, gnawing to the bone. comb, foam, slope, pulsar! dogi leef aft! This is a pointless entry, engry, angry, freudian typo evolves, serves as an intermediary between wish fulfillment and coding. I definitely need to vent about something, but I'm not sure. It is frustrating to be so out of touch when one is usually well-grounded. maybe the cord runs through my mouth and out some hole right under my ribcage; someone is drawing on the line and it is so cold. my heart is beating fast, fast. swelling chills-just like the beach! Would you guys join me at the beach, on the bank of the tumid river? night-swimming with the jellyfish, anchored and kited! crucified between two fishing lines, one string from above and one below! Let's camp out on an island somewhere; who cares about the cold? bury ourselves in wet soft sand, breathe like clams, calm calm clams! only crocodile tears...