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Somebody told me that you had a boyfriend who looked like a girlfriend who I had in February of last year.
10.13.2004 | 3:28 am This one might be ugly. Deal with it, ladies. Okay. Monday night was spent in the lovely company of Ms. Amanda & my darling, James. We went to the mall & visited stores. I think James is becoming a little too comfy with Amanda. & there's my jealous girlfriend talk. They decided to eat, so I ditched them for better company in the ladies' room. I returned & I think we walked around the mall some more...? I don't really remember, but I know we ended up at BAM, & I was staring at Mike, Josh, & Matt. Ick. Names shall be dropped. We took James home & then Amanda. We sang on the ride home. It was cute. Fucking a-dorable. Trust me. Today was sweet. James came over at 9 o' clock [a.m.] & we made out/watched TV/smoked/played guitar/cleaned & various other things until he HAD to leave about 9 p.m. Ah. He's my love, as you know, but he's moody. More so than I. One minute he can be holding my hand, laughing, smiling; the next he's yelling at me & insulting me. I hate being insulted. & yelled at. And I super hate having insults yelled at me. Especially ones about ex-boyfriends. Ahem. The day was nice though. I felt very ... married, actually. It was cute. Like playing house. We washed dishes together and cleaned the countertop & table. I sat in his lap & smoked my cigarettes. We shared. He played guitar & I admired, as I always do. I would have probably had sex with him had I been in a different location, because, because, because - He's James. & I'm deprived. Sigh. I have odd reactions to things. I care, but I tell myself not to care, so in not caring I become apathetic, and really don't care, but I do, but it's sort of all an act. Make sense? Didn't think so. We took James home tonight & I came back home to work in joyful fucking chickenland. I worked and worked and worked a tad bit more - until 2 :36 fucking a.m. I've had a total of about 3 hours sleep in the past 3 days & even that was interrupted with ... something. Insomnia, maybe. Sleep is starting to become a burden for me. [Personal note: Call Philip Gomillion for personal reasons.] I miss James. :( Bring him back. thisclose, darling. But, no, you have to put ice down my fucking pants. Frigid my ass. Literally. And as always -- "Dick!" Now, I do believe I'm going to attempt to take a stab at this whole sleep thing. I'll probably do what I did yesterday -- read, watch TV, and walk around my house like a zombie. Because that's what I do. I had a dream that Miranda [I], Shaunna, and Philip all lived in the same house. My house. Shaunna & Philip were together, but they never showed affection or love. So one day, Amanda comes over & as in reality, she's interested in skateboarding and such, and Philip falls madly in love with her and says, "Fuck you!" to Shaunna and I just sort of watch all of this like a TV show. It was weird. I was talking to my mother tonight about a few things. She thinks I'm mad. Not upset-mad. Crazy-mad. I mentioned the rehabilitation thing to her & she made a face. A disgusted face. & told me that I was stronger than that & didn't need doctors to help me. So, I agreed. But told her I wasn't responsible for anything that happened to myself from this point forward, in which case, the discussion upgraded itself into an argument. This is a weird thing to say, but sometimes I feel like my heart is talking to me. Not with words, but with beats. I'll explain. Sometimes it gets really fast and 9 of 10 times most people can't feel their own heart beat, but I can. But only sometimes. And it beats fast for certain reasons and slow for others and I feel like it threatens me when it beats slow. Like it's saying, "Stop it or I'll fucking stop you!" I think I'm going to ignore it though. Who really listens to their heart anyway? I found the perfect shirt for my fairy costume. But I'm not sure I want to be a fairy anymore. I might just be Miranda's twin or something. Cheesy, but practical and cheap. Who cares? I guess I shall be spending Halloween with strange people. Or alone. Or sneaking out of my goddamn bedroom window. Shit if I'm staying home on All Hallows Eve. Right, right. I was going to get some sleep. Fine. I'm leaving. Jesse makes me feel sorry for him. Someone should hug him. |
