Hmmmm.
Sometimes I am completely amazed by things, I don't even know what they are. Okay, take this, I'm sleepy and probably won't make any sense, typing like a cripple here. Ray Charles movie nice, hurt my feelings thought fuck infidelity. And just when you think you are done with a bastard's memory they pop up like one of those annoying punching bags from your childhood. What the hell. I finally realized that no one reads this shit, which is probably the relatively safer aspect of writing on the internet, but (Wah! tantrum) I wanted people to read my on and on whiny bullshit! And so in a fit of boredom and curiosity it was off into my friend's lj friends lists and to see who I could dig up to resemble me and mine. But nada I find, just a handful of teenage rejects with nothing to waste but time, because wasting them selves is such a daily it doesn't count, when upon a whim to click the x in the corner, and delete my late night misery, I find Ashley Dodson lurking with three years of lj and I had no idea. Seen quite a few people I know as a matter of a fact, but Ashley Dodson, that is a name that somehow means something to me that I don't want. I don't "know" Ashley Dodson. I know her ex, who is my ex, who was once the love of my life, and is now just the bloodstains on my existence. What a better time than when I am looking for something different, more enlightening, a kindred spirit, for her journal to crash into mine. Go away Ms. Dodson, and though I am sure you are a lovely person, please don't be my nagging reminder. Not tonight, when I am stuffed full of meds, back hurting, tits throbbing, head nagging, don't bring up the biggest heartbreak of my life with your name. Thank you. My fingers hurt and I want a cigarette, and though she'll be mean to me, I want my mother to get out of bed and have a meaningful conversation with me, but she didn't get any sleep last night and it's all my fault. My grandma probably called this morning and I have had the phone tied up, but mommy needs her rest so let's just forget about that one. Matt was supposed to call me when he got back from Waffle House, but he didn't so asshole is probably in bed without me, and I wanna talk dammit, about life and love and him fucking me the other night cuz damn did I give his couch a bath, hahahah, bet you wanted to hear that one. And this is just what I mena when I say anything, I'll be honest until you scream, give you the benefit of a silent pause to calm your rejection of the extreme, and carry on with my burning honesty, I got fucked and I was happy. But not like I was the other morning, when he laid me down and got inside me and made me feel like the woman I am supposed to be was licking her way through to the surface of my skin from the depths of me, and that's what it was I think, happening to me, until he hurt me, with his inconsiderate games, caused me to truck it back inside and forget and call it a fling. Mom screams one more time and I'll submit ha! like yesterday and all of the years before except from 12 to 16 cuz I was a hopeful firecracker not letting go of my dreams, but it's all the same when they steal the cream before the pie in the sky has a chance to finish its development. How the hell am I supposed to pull happiness out of my ass. Oh work for it an believe in yourself says daddy, don't worry when she hits you and calls you her servant, she wants the best for you, somewhere deep inside. I want the best to, I want Ryan to love me, the way I for some reason always thought he did, I want Matt to be the man he swears he is, I want Toby to erase the memory of his dick in my best friend out of my mind, and I want my mother to wipe of the tears of everytime she made me cry. I want Julie to tell me the truth, I want Angela to call me, I want Michelle to get a fucking clue about how she thinks she is going to talk to me (NO ONE CALLS ME OUT OF MY NAME), and I want a tall glass of orange juice. This is completely stupid, off I go, to bed or somewhere, probably off to the phone. nite. i'm out.