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28.12.04
-
i feel weird.
i started crying and i didnt know why at all at all and i lay on my bed trying to force myself to a reason.
here are some:
1. there are twisters in my freezer.
2. i spent my day throwing away things people bought for me.
3. i spent my day throwing away memories and things.
4. i don't like being away from him.
5. i'm just depressed.
6. a scene from a televised book made me want to run and run in a dress, which made me feel sad.
7. my room is bare.
there are also many memories pushing through my head of times when i have been sad, and times when i will be sad, as i see them coming.
i often wonder if i am mysterious to people; how sometimes i am off and then on and then way too on and then off again; the things i cherish are not like other's. my treasure box is filled with shells and stones and petals and foam hearts and scraps of paper and a torn photograph.
i guess a mysterious person wouldnt be mysterious, i mean you can't see the bottom of the ocean, right? I don't think any person has ever known me, either. such a loss? i think not. I'm not really anything special, even though alot of the time i like to kid myself that i am, or kid you that i am.
maybe i am.
and i have listened to music to often, you know sometimes when it loses it's talent and leaves you with that dead feeling, over-sweetened? my alcohol tastes bad.
i feel sad when i realise that actually you and i are far from intrinsic, infact we are seperate, entirely so, our lives are braided together.
chartreuse.
concierge.
i like to make up stories, all of the time. i have a lot of trouble distinguishing between reality and imagination, in my head at least.
OTHER NEWS:
i finished my stupid mocks, art drained and sapped me of all fibre. even for maths! even though in the first paper i did excellently well, compared to what i think i can do.
i assume i'll get an a in english. not an a*. i can never consistently pull out the stops. never. except, i got a's when i was crap, i should get higher now.
whatever. stupid WJEC.
i have hot ears. i wonder if it's my lover talking about me. i forget which ear is right. maybe it's my alcohol.
x
whispered by killa b at 8:24 PM |
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