7:43 p.m. - 2004-11-04
Call me pretty and I'll call you petty. Call me petty and I'll call you pretty. Either way, the result is the same.
Sometimes I think it's funny how we all deal with what goes on in such different ways and how it takes so long just to come close to figuring out ourselves before we excuse it, deny it, retry it, and repeat. I hate wearing shoes and I'm not even trying to be symbolic, but it will end up that way anyways, because we're living in a bad Hawthorne novel and everything has a hidden meaning. I just made the worst cup of tea and I'm freezing because I left my sweatshirt at home. I'm trapped in math problems, day dreams, and my own thoughts and I'm begging you for conversation, because I'm a sucker for a good conversationalist. I guess I miss when I used to talk to certain people, but I bet we'll all end up better off. This year is all about isolation and seperation for me, but I bet for a lot of people it's more about unity and other words that sound equally as after-school-special-esque. I can easily place myself in anyone else's shoes if you paint me the picture. I try really hard to see both sides before taking one and I think about everything before I speak- unless I'm kidding or actually have a strong opinion on the matter. I always find it nearly impossible to make decisions because I never know what is better for everyone and I don't want to upset anyone and that annoys me. In a sense, I annoy myself because I wish I was more opinionated and could actually make a difference. I know I can be a bitch a large percentage of the time, but mostly I react to my environment. Maybe that makes me a follower, but I don't think I quite fit in there either because I won't follow anyone blindly. Maybe I'm more of a traitor, because I'll follow until I disagree and then I'll trade groups. I guess in the long run it doesn't really matter because all that is supposed to matter is right now. I hate when people say that. Who decides what matters? Who decides what is important? Sometimes I think it's hillarious how many people are satisfied with laying around drinking and singing along to sad songs about their dads who were alcohalics. Haha. No, most of the time I think it's funny. Maybe irony just makes me laugh. I'm not sure. I'm all for that tortured artist, emotional lyrics and low melody, but a lot of the time, I'd rather be listening to music that I know will help me forget about any problems that are getting me down. Who's idea was it to listen to depressing music when you're in a bad mood. Not me. If I'm in a bad mood, don't even fucking talk to me unless I'm blared Blink 182 for a good 5-10 minutes. In fact, if I'm not jumping up and down and smiling and hitting myself with my hair, then back away slowly and don't make a sound. Maybe that makes me predictable, but how predictable would I be if I went around with my heart on my sleeve and cried about it? "Oh please! Shut the shades! Let my hair grow in front of my eyes so I never have to see all those people who are sure to disappoint me!" Don't take offense to that, because I've never heard anyone say that. I'm just amusing myself for a bit. I don't know, man. If someone is going to disappoint me, which they are sure to, then I want them to see it. I want them to see me hurt because I know that's the worst feeling in the world, but they'll deserve it, because I purposely try not to expect much. I honestly think that when someone is disappointed in me it is the worst feeling in the world. No lie. I would rather them threaten my life and hate me then be disappointed in me.
Can you tell what kind of mood I'm in tonight? It's one of those "today sucked-I need some good conversation- I hate the human race- I want to meet new people- I'm feeling slightly superior- and I'm the biggest hypocrit ever- because if I wasn't, then no one would know I meant to be" type of moods. This is a waste. You'd rather pick apart my grammer errors then actually have a conversation, why else do you think you're reading this instead of talking to me? ha. Got you there, didn't I? I'm sorry I'm a bitch tonight. Did you know I hate apologies? Never apologize to me. I swear it will make everything 10 times worse. I swear. I'm not good at taking compliments either and I never know what to say when someone thanks me. When I say "don't mention it" I mean it. Don't bother, because I don't know how to respond.
Maybe I'm just making this harder then it is and you're just trying to follow along, but I doubt it and I bet before we know it we'll be driving that same old car again. We'll get into crashes because we're too busy fighting over french fries and radio stations. This will make us laugh years later, because we both think fast food restaurant fries are really greasy and we both hate the radio. hahaha. We drive around in vacant parking lots at night, aiming for empty water bottles to run over, because we make our own fun when none can be found. I'll bring along my camera, because I like taking pictures and you'll bring along some sleeping bags because you actually planned on taking me to the state border and pulling off to the side of the highway, just so we can fall asleep under the stars and actually see them. Now, how's that for living while we have the chance? Too bad neither of us have a car and too bad neither of us even know each other. Too bad that we don't talk. Too bad that we never see each other. Too bad that there's so much bad in the world. Too bad that we don't understand. Too bad that some days are terrible. Too bad that all your friends hate you. Too bad that you're uncomfortable. Too bad. Get over it. I meant that in the least bitchy way possible.
Sweet dreams and remember that the only reason that you're handling this alone is because you want to.
Goodbye to courage, civil altercations, human compassion, and honorable discharge with your head held high. Hello, revenge, back stabbing,jealously, gluttony, and catty phone conversations.
Tonight is going to last an eternity. I can already tell.
