Saturday, October 20, 2007

99 problems but a bitch ain't 1

Well, for a start, a "bitch" is one of my 99 problems. Along with the prospects of growning up. Seriously, I wish I could just be 7 again, when relationships were a game of kiss chase and a quick flash in the swimming pool and nurses probed only your ears.


Everybody wants to know her na-a-a-a-a-a-a-ame. Not my name though. She's just a weirdo with no name. I'm just a weirdo with no name and no colours in my hair! Before I set off I planned everything that I would do that day, what I would say and how we would spend the weekend having a friendly banter over a pint and southern comfort with lemonade. My opportunity couldn't have been more perfect, just before a lesson together, I was outside having a fag and he popped along and sat about half a metre away from me. At that point I tried figuring out how to start the topic of becoming friends, then the ost perfect situatuion happened! He dropped a rizla and it flew so close to me and I laughed, then I said "Hey, so you wanna be friends?, he said yeah an we're going out for that friendly drink tonight.


Not really, I said nothing after the laugh. Then after my fag I just walked straight back in and sat in my classroom, later to be joined by "Travis". the rest of the day wasn't too bad friend-making wise, my table was discussing films and I participated. I even had one of those moments when someone else does something really funny, so you instantly look to the person next to you to secretly laugh at them! It felt good. But what doesn't feel good is having no plans for the weekend, with no one to talk to and throwing up. Twice.


Fingers crossed for next week then


Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Disappointing crab, and the host was rude


Jealousy. That fucking feeling.

No matter how much you hate being jealous, you can't do anything about it, to my belief anyway.

It's the sort of thing that you hate being, but if other people feel it about you then it gives some sort of strength of power. Power or no power, I want this feeling to go away.

I want to be "that carefree girl", you know, the one that never gets hurt or stresses out about a simple look at a girl, or communication between the beloved man and his fucking ex bitches of girlfriends. However, the way I see it, to be carefree you never get hurt. But to never be hurt is to nevr get involved.

But I want to get involved. I want to be neck-deep in involvedness, fuck it, I want to be drowning in involvedness. But to be involved is to be jealous.


I'm fucked...and powerful