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Never had a drink that I didn't like. Got a taste of you, threw up all night.
09.22.2004 | 6:17 am I just figured out how to play smidgets of "Dramamine" all by my little old lonesome. I feel special & happy. Wee. I'm in a good mood now. Not many people can say that they're in a good mood at 6:23 a.m., now can they? I can, because I am the all-mighty, superpowerful, magnificient Miranda. I have a high self-esteem right now. No guarantees it'll still be around this afternoon. You know what? I like deciphering people. I'm not Damien about it, where I stand around observing & not speaking. I find that the more you talk to a person, the more you can find out about them, rather it be personal information or simply the fact that they're a good (or bad) liar. I'm only a bad liar when I want to get caught. And I am so revealing all my dirty little secrets to the world. And how do I feel about the world today? Well, better than I did yesterday. I felt gosh darned shitty yesterday. I know a few reasons why. I don't understand my sleeping patterns. I sleep for extended periods of time & then wake up for 10 minutes & then back to sleep I go. And no matter how much I try to fool you into thinking I have a life, I don't. And what little bit of a life I do have, it's phooey. Poop. Garbage. I'd gladly trade with one of you poor bastards who do the exact same things I do, minus the neverending drama between characters. Dear god, I've started referring to the people in my life as characters. But I can do that, because most of the people are only characters. They're make believe in the most realistic way. I'm happy with James, you know? I really am. Fuck what all my friends say. They can think we're mad & insane. I'm okay with that, because goddamnit - we are. We're madly in love & just flat out fucking bonkers. And again, I'm okay with that. I want to carry Dusty around in a little box with me so whenever I need advice I can pull him out and get a semi-resolution. Actually, fuck carrying Dusty around in a little box, I would prefer my own tarot cards. But mother says they're wicked. Booga booga. My mom's a Christian. Congrats on all the rest of you who are as well. I have no beef with Christians. They're just too judgmental & close-minded. If you're not, high-five, cause you're one in a million. Anyway, I plan on getting a deck. Fuck her religious beliefs. My beliefs are more important. Not more important exactly, but you know that old saying, "Different strokes for different folks." And every time I say that I have to say, that strikes me as quite sexually explicit. My dear lord, I have so many malfunctions concerning sexual acts. Like, I think I tie sexual relations into past events & into lack of feeling or the feeling of being wanted. All right, so I either have absolutely no feelings towards anything sexual that occurs, I attach too many feelings to it, or I do it simply because I like feeling like I'm necessary for a good 15-20 minutes. Or I just shut it off completely, which is crazy. Only a select few people know why I would do that. Only a select few people know about the entire fucking event. Fuck calling it an event, that gives him too much credit. I don't know what it should be called, but fuck it. I'm getting in a weird mood. I just realized I never even mentioned that in here, although it was a semi-drastic part of my life. Maybe it's because I ried to forget. Or maybe it's just because I see no point in it. And there really isn't much I can say considering I don't know what happened at all since I passed out. Goddamn. And everyone knows I only say "fuck" & talk way too fast when I'm pissed or upset, right? So imagine everything I said above in that voice. Fuck. Now I've gone & made myself bad. I'm going to go eat breakfast. With my family. Like a normal teenager. Note to self: Wash dishes. By the way, everyone should check out the show this Saturday. It shall be awesome. Awesome, indeed. The only thing that would make it better would be if Blind Innuendo played. Antenna Thief. Bat. And some other oddly named band that I've never heard of. It begins with a "C". Tried not to move, but she was armed & shots were fired. Now a hole in the head of this wounded liar. Never had a drink that I didn't like. Got a taste of you, threw up all night. I got more sick with every sour second rate kiss. Everything I never would miss again.
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