I am a mess.


All sortsa blah blah blah
February 08, 2002 @ 11:01 a.m.

I got my hair cut yesterday. There's nothing like a big black man running his hands all over your head, scrubbing bubbles into your scalp and rinsing ever so softly that can make you happy.

I love when people touch my hair, my head. There's nothing more stimulating to me. I don't want to say that it's sexually stimulating, because that's just not true. It just gives me a feeling of completion.

Okay, I've officially become a dumbass.

Matt wants to see me at that Jettingham show on Saturday. He also wants me to come to a Komets game on the 15th, so I can listen to him announce. I don't know what to make of it. It's like he actually wants to hang out with me.

I'm not even looking at a romantic side here. He's into Blair. I know that. I'm looking at the fact that he likes me at all. That's still a little cloudy in my mind, a little disturbing. I really and honestly have trouble believing people like me.

Kids, stay away from cough syrup.

I was told again last night by Kyle that he wants to read happier poetry. Why does that boy feel like he needs to fix me?

I kind of like being the tortured, the self-effacing. What's wrong with self-pity? True, I let it control me, but at least I know I'm still breathing, that I can still feel.

However inconsequential or empty my day has been, at least I know that I can still breathe, open up, answer.

Some people cannot claim that.

"'Tis time this heart should be unmoved,/Since others it hath ceased to move:/Yet though I cannot be beloved,/Still let me love!" (Byron)



<< | >>

- - March 22, 2010
always the same - July 01, 2008
b-a-n-a-n-a-s! - December 25, 2006
elementary again - October 29, 2006
I don't like you, but I love you - October 03, 2006

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