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I kinda want to write but have 1) nothing to write about and b) no motivation. ----- I had a nice and angsty day. I listened to In Utero and Incesticide really loud. And then watched Patch Adams at Joe's while he and Kaitlin went at it (no disrespect intended). I missed the first bus home because I didn't have any change and then missed (ran along beside for two blocks before he went faster) the second bus while buying a chocolate bar for the purpose of obtaining change for a five dollar bill. I finally bought a bus pass. ----- Saw Katie. Talked. Stuff. ----- It's back to the old skolliwoll in a couple of days. Grumble ----- I'll come back as fire And burn all the liars Leave a blanket of ash on the ground -Nirvana (Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle) ----- My new haircut is lopsided the other way. I think it's hilarious. But it isn't forty dollars better. Yet I didn't pay for it. Mom had been begging me to get it cut so she paid for it, kinda. It's her spa, but yeah. ----- I feel snobby by association ----- I love bellybuttons. ALL bellybuttons. They are so insanely cute. They sit there and begged to be played with. "Poke me, poke me!" they urge. And I do. And people squirm and wriggle. ----- I've been noticeably less suicidal the last little while. I'm not sure if I miss it or not. ----- Makes you wonder, doesn't it? ----- Mary-go-round (well aware) ----- I'm making a conscious effort to relax a little. ----- My dad just threatened to leave the house (family, etc.). He meant it too. It scared me a little but made me smile inside. I like it when he stands up for himself. It's inspiring. ----- I've gotta be a little more (physically) healthy. I hate Coke. ----- All it takes is a few words and you will never look at someone the same way again. ----- I need to do things I like more. ----- The last few days, I've been tasting blood at random times. Not metaphorically tasting blood in a tremendous rage. Literally having the hideous aftertaste in my mouth. I have no idea why either. It's disgusting. I really don't like it. ----- The heads of unexploded Scotsmen lie in the vodka jars. (or something) ----- Catsup, my ass! ----- All my reactions are automatic. ===== oneish |