(no subject)
the keyboard makes my fingers hot
...
okay so i think i have to explain myself. about the bliss. and the recent events. life is gorgeous, that's the important thing. school happens these days, and it's not so bad at all. skids is almost always around, and she makes me feel like a real person, and she wakes me up in the morning and on the drive to school, we rock out to sugar ray and eminem and the strokes and we don't give a fuck. we get to school each day and strut around, exchange mischievous glances, and shake our shit. we plot and scheme to get seth hammered on Nashville Sluts and shave his legs while he's passed out. we're both relentlessly beautiful, every day. we're the coolest kids in school.
the sitar study is really, honest to god panning out. ms lee is the director for independent study, but i don't get to hang out with her because she teaches economoics during second period. it's a shame. i love ms lee so much i could scream into my pillow and claw at the walls.
i was nattering on about something just now, but i deleted it... it was about that spot in me that starts to ache with bliss when i'm in the passenger seat listening to mozart and holding my arm out the window while the wind rushes through my fingers... and i wanted to use it to describe how much i adore john, or skids, or ms. lee, but while it's all of those, it's really more just happening right now. about nothing in particular. except right now it's not so much bliss, it's just an ache.
'cause life is relentless and stupefyingly awesome, but these days i feel queasy about it.
i'm about to fall into a precipice any moment now.
(that just means john's leaving and i'm scared.)
...
i've been wearing my mizrabs wrong this whole time. no wonder it didn't sound like sitars are supposed to sound. anyway, the book told me how, and it now sounds quite lovely and quite amateur. the room they gave me off of the media center has a sleeping bag and a bright sunshiney window. no one comes in except for sometimes seth, and sometimes air-conditioning guys. one of these days i'll just take a nap and no one will even know. what ridiculous luck i have.
self: remind mum to take me to my lesson with kakali on saturday morning.
saturday evening, speaking of, heralds me and carl's first paying gigs together. two in a row. one at Sweet Devil Moon and one next door, the Village Something or Other. what fun.
Water Music is the crunkest book ever. i mean it. FUCK.
ah, dammit i miss joe
i don't have enough time
where is the time
ohhhhh dear
...
okay so i think i have to explain myself. about the bliss. and the recent events. life is gorgeous, that's the important thing. school happens these days, and it's not so bad at all. skids is almost always around, and she makes me feel like a real person, and she wakes me up in the morning and on the drive to school, we rock out to sugar ray and eminem and the strokes and we don't give a fuck. we get to school each day and strut around, exchange mischievous glances, and shake our shit. we plot and scheme to get seth hammered on Nashville Sluts and shave his legs while he's passed out. we're both relentlessly beautiful, every day. we're the coolest kids in school.
the sitar study is really, honest to god panning out. ms lee is the director for independent study, but i don't get to hang out with her because she teaches economoics during second period. it's a shame. i love ms lee so much i could scream into my pillow and claw at the walls.
i was nattering on about something just now, but i deleted it... it was about that spot in me that starts to ache with bliss when i'm in the passenger seat listening to mozart and holding my arm out the window while the wind rushes through my fingers... and i wanted to use it to describe how much i adore john, or skids, or ms. lee, but while it's all of those, it's really more just happening right now. about nothing in particular. except right now it's not so much bliss, it's just an ache.
'cause life is relentless and stupefyingly awesome, but these days i feel queasy about it.
i'm about to fall into a precipice any moment now.
(that just means john's leaving and i'm scared.)
...
i've been wearing my mizrabs wrong this whole time. no wonder it didn't sound like sitars are supposed to sound. anyway, the book told me how, and it now sounds quite lovely and quite amateur. the room they gave me off of the media center has a sleeping bag and a bright sunshiney window. no one comes in except for sometimes seth, and sometimes air-conditioning guys. one of these days i'll just take a nap and no one will even know. what ridiculous luck i have.
self: remind mum to take me to my lesson with kakali on saturday morning.
saturday evening, speaking of, heralds me and carl's first paying gigs together. two in a row. one at Sweet Devil Moon and one next door, the Village Something or Other. what fun.
Water Music is the crunkest book ever. i mean it. FUCK.
ah, dammit i miss joe
i don't have enough time
where is the time
ohhhhh dear