The pencil disappeared
The pencil disappeared, and I broke down. I just started bawling all over the place. It's not like I only have one pencil. It's not like I'm sleep deprived. I'm not even PMSing!
What the fuck?
I went to the band event. We went to Children's Colony, which is a place where people incapable of taking care of themselves (for medical reasons: blindness, deafness, immense mental retardation, physical conditions mixed with mental retardation, etc.) live under the care of nurses. We played Bear Down, Arizona (how could we not...?) and Christmas Carols for them. They really loved it.
But the vultures flying overhead took away from the general quality of the merriment. Look, birds, we know they're dying and we know we sound like shit right now. But do you have to hover? It's obnoxious and a little frightening.
And the people in the intensive care building made me really feel how lucky we all are. How lucky I am to be an adult and not need a rattle, a pacifier, and a nurse to wheel me around, feed me, take care of me, and try to understand me even though I can't speak. How lucky I am to have two working legs. How lucky I am not to have any of these various disorders that require these people to live under such conditions.
She screamed for joy, but her scream did not sound joyful.
And then we went home. It was fun. I felt like a good person for having done it. And I was invited to smoke pot later tonight.
I'd better not, unless I want the worst trip of my life.
And then I did a little work, slept, and tried to do some more work. But the room is too dark. And the work is hard, and it scares me for the test on Monday. And then Laurel came by, and she asked if I had black or white nail polish (which I didn't) or knew if anyone had a pair of black or white leggins to borrow (which I didn't), as she was going to a black and white party tonight (which I am not).
And that's when the pencil disappeared. I found it. I'm amazed I persisted long enough to find it.
I want a cupcake. A fatty cupcake (and by fatty cupcake, I don't mean to say I'd get fat, I mean to say the cupcake had better be fucking big, gorgeous, and full of rich, delightful chocolate) to give me endorphins. It's raining and I'm wet and I hate it and I'm cold and I hate it and it's dark and I hate that, too.
And everyone stopped responding to me, and I'd really like someone just to talk to.
I'd also really like better lighting. And someone with whom I can eat.
Whatever. Wishful thinking is stupid. I probably won't eat (which means I probably will and refuse to admit it even though I just did) tonight. I'd better go back to math.
I like my pencil a lot.
What the fuck?
I went to the band event. We went to Children's Colony, which is a place where people incapable of taking care of themselves (for medical reasons: blindness, deafness, immense mental retardation, physical conditions mixed with mental retardation, etc.) live under the care of nurses. We played Bear Down, Arizona (how could we not...?) and Christmas Carols for them. They really loved it.
But the vultures flying overhead took away from the general quality of the merriment. Look, birds, we know they're dying and we know we sound like shit right now. But do you have to hover? It's obnoxious and a little frightening.
And the people in the intensive care building made me really feel how lucky we all are. How lucky I am to be an adult and not need a rattle, a pacifier, and a nurse to wheel me around, feed me, take care of me, and try to understand me even though I can't speak. How lucky I am to have two working legs. How lucky I am not to have any of these various disorders that require these people to live under such conditions.
She screamed for joy, but her scream did not sound joyful.
And then we went home. It was fun. I felt like a good person for having done it. And I was invited to smoke pot later tonight.
I'd better not, unless I want the worst trip of my life.
And then I did a little work, slept, and tried to do some more work. But the room is too dark. And the work is hard, and it scares me for the test on Monday. And then Laurel came by, and she asked if I had black or white nail polish (which I didn't) or knew if anyone had a pair of black or white leggins to borrow (which I didn't), as she was going to a black and white party tonight (which I am not).
And that's when the pencil disappeared. I found it. I'm amazed I persisted long enough to find it.
I want a cupcake. A fatty cupcake (and by fatty cupcake, I don't mean to say I'd get fat, I mean to say the cupcake had better be fucking big, gorgeous, and full of rich, delightful chocolate) to give me endorphins. It's raining and I'm wet and I hate it and I'm cold and I hate it and it's dark and I hate that, too.
And everyone stopped responding to me, and I'd really like someone just to talk to.
I'd also really like better lighting. And someone with whom I can eat.
Whatever. Wishful thinking is stupid. I probably won't eat (which means I probably will and refuse to admit it even though I just did) tonight. I'd better go back to math.
I like my pencil a lot.