satansworkshop8

Theres an old saying that if you dream about someone in your family dying, then someone you know will have a baby. My mom and I each had one within the past two weeks, maybe I'm just being superstitous but I'm pretty creeped out.

A little excited for Christmas - pretty sure I know what I'm getting.

She's got the warmest body that I've ever had
Drag the lake, you'll find it full of love

In class, we watched a video on relationship studies, and how most people date other people with the same eye color, hair color, skin tone, etc. If you look at a timeline of someone's ex lovers, you will see a pattern. They pick the same stuff. Most people. Upon hearing this, I laughed one giant gasp of air so hard that my throat locked, sending a narrow spray of Tropicana across my desk and books. In the darkness, I felt my classmates' eyes drift over to me. I held my breath. Everyone settled back on the movie. Then I started to cry.

Some faggot at my school tried to do a rendition of Gossip Girl via myspace, posting blogs about people getting engaged and my friends being pregnant. And they had the audacity to request me.

I feel disgustingly boring lately as if I all I do is lay around and rub my belly and watch bad T.V. shows because, well, that's all I've been doing. To kick back into it, tonight my sister and I will attempt an all nighter. And sometime this weekend, the glow party and a hotel sneak in must take place.

I also have a mini-interview at a pharmacy tomorrow which I am pretty excited about.

I don't know who I think I am snooping around all the time. This is a disaster. aka, someone who used to be a strange mystery has suddenly transformed to the girl who works in a flower shop and is pretty skinny and lets guys go down on her all the time.........

I want us to go to the hotel tonight. I devulged many a details today that I had never devulged to anyone. Big details. I doubt that you are reading this but if you perhaps are I want to thank you six million times for listening and to tell you how hard it was for me not to sob like a bitch in the car. And I wish I invited you over for dinner, lol.

Getting too ahead of myself here, but Joe and I were talking today of getting the old group together for one last hoorah. I know that a lot of people are bullshitting and don't really want to go through with it, but I'm getting this gut feeling that I should just say fuck it and invite everyone over my house one night during break. Really, what's the worst that could happen?... lollll.

I also don't want to go to work. It's too cold to move right now but I'm doing it mainly for the ride there/home. Despite my car being on it's deathbed and the yucky weather, I've been loving every chance I get to drive by myself and rock out. And oh mah gahhhhhddddddd I just updated my zune and for some reason I have games on here, which is really cool, and I can play solataire at work.

xox

I suppose my van and I were one person in another lifetime. I have to take it in tonight and have no vehicle tomorrow, while my mother makes me drink this disgusting medicine that mixes in my water and smells like glue. I also just wrote an essay for a Lycoming application, still wondering why because 1) I know I won't get in and 2) even if I do get in, I know that I won't go. Why do I get myself into these things.

Everyone has been nice and loving for the past two days, I miss everyone, and it didn't help that Ashley went missing for a few days and I cried on the way home from clinicals while Caitie stared and I was relieved when she picked up the phone. I'm laughing at myself while writing this, thinking of when they called me the mother of my friends. I have to fill the void of babies somehow,

My whole school day was spent learning/talking about shit and bowels.
And then I knowingly ate a spiderweb.
It's only four and the day is getting more and more raunchy with every passing moment.
Joanna Newsom is so awesome.

Auras and sounds of candles and a coloring-book photo. The drips of white and yellow on the other side that I forgot about, I regretted when I grabbed for. A biking glove, mistaken for hockey. Dog shampoo. A hair tie, twisted and full of dust. Spider guts. A cellar, a torture device: my workspace. I blink in front of blinding lights and staring windows, laughing that this will not be good enough. It won't.

Athena's bookstore, the harp, the bloody feeling. They were cancelled faster and faster like my dog's denial, who won't kiss me anymore, what does that say about our relationship, about my personality?

Things are getting worse down here. The quicker my fingers split and bend, the quicker my mind grinds, the quicker I remember the question that I had to ask; do you love her?

oh my god I want you forever and always, to have and to hold
it totally melts my face and I'm so pissed that I can't have it ("2008 collection")
fuck them
 

Could going 4 hours away for college be classified as running away from your problems? As I spend my Halloween writing essays upon essays, I've come to the settling conclusion that in a matter of months, I will possibly be away from everyone I know, with an emphasis on the word settling. "At first I was afraid, I was petrified." I'm sick of everyone who always talks about themselves and those who are stuck in denial and illiterates.

In other news, a friend's terrible misfortune with an ex-girlfriend has inspired me to begin a story about a guy and an abortion. Still have gone no further than three pages on my last prompt. Eggs is eggs.

the best day somehow turned into the worst night. what is the easiest way to convince someone that they don't want to kill themselves when you know they don't? i wish i could tell who was the attention whore here.

I have just returned from a party busted by the cops. I'm quite perturbed. The universe tricks me; throwing me into mood swings of wanting to belong and socialize and all of this nonsense, only to be suddenly severed. Tonight was my chance, last night was my chance. Not to learn the Lil' Wayne album, not to play beer pong with the faggots that graduated three years ago. I might be the only one who knows what I'm talking about, which brings me back to myself, still sitting in my outfit and makeup, hoping I will get called to attend another event tonight.

And I find that it is possible to have your own song (and your boyfriend's song) stuck in your head.

I've been waiting for them to come back - the interesting parts of me. It seems like they've been washed off like water colors, sudden and rushing. It's the thing I long for most now and I wish it could come back and I could come out of this corner with other people's meaningless talk collecting with the dust bunnies. I know the next few days will get bad just because they always do. I will go to a family get together tomorrow and probably go home early because I can't stop crying. And then instead of eating I will listen to all of my music, and every song will remind me how it all reminds you of her. To make matters worse, I will use him as my armor like I always do; I will make myself believe everything I'm saying and writing. By Monday morning it's gone. I'm happy for him, I really am.

The mission is not that I miss you: I will not find you that way. But in a way, so ridiculously stunning, that you would have to beg for my attention and company, only to be denied. So I will leave a mitten in the bushes on my street. I don't know how you will find it, but if you do, don't call.