the bluest eyes in texas are haunting me tonight...
10.24.2004 | 6:38 am


Dear Jesus, I hurt so bad. My side is fucking aching me to death. I took two tylenol earlier. I wanted Lortab or something, but no, mother says it's illegal or whatnot. Whatever. I'll find the shit. You watch.

I feel bad. I told James I had to get off the phone because I was sleepy & I was. But I went into the living room to lie down & I decided how ugly my house was, so I start sorting through papers & magazines & shit, which kept me occupied well into 5 a.m., apparently. I had no idea I had sat there going through my mom's clutter that long. Well, a good percentage of it was spent doubled over in pain trying to puke, but again, whatever. I did find nifty pictures though. I found school pictures of me from 6th, 7th, & 9th grade. I found Tish's senior portrait. I found Josh's 6th grade photo. & I found a picture of Justin Gibbs. Whack. I also found a picture of my, mumsie, & pops. It looks strange. I have no idea who took it either. My dad's sitting in a chair with me in his lap & my mom's sitting on the arm of the chair. He's smiling, she's grinning, & I'm biting my fingernails. I'm looking directly at the camera & I look so goddamn ... innocent. I don't think innocent is the word. I just know my eyes look the same in that picture as they do now. They don't look like that in any other picture. I have no idea why I noticed that.

I went to Walmart tonight. I didn't want to go. Nope. I wanted to go stay at Heather's for a wee bit while mother shopped, but I needed a few necessities, plus she kind of forced me to go. Ugh. I ran into, literally, my old English teacher Mrs. Robertson. We chatted. She wanted so badly to reach out & give me a hug & tell me the world wasn't as cruel as I think it is & I wanted so badly to just blurt out everything I've felt & gone through for the past like, 5 years. But we didn't. We just gave sympathetic smiles & pretended we didn't know what the other felt. Oddly enough, Clanton appears out of no fucking where. He starts talking about his band & their new lead singer or soon-to-be-new-lead-singer. I listened. & he talked about a few other things. In all honesty I didn't pay that much attention. I got like, 3 things out of the conversation - his lack of sex, the fact that I have pretty, long hair, & that he invited me to this chick's party. & he said I was a bitch to Justin. I retalliated with - "Bullfucking shit. He was a bitch to me. He ditched me all the time for your fucking ass & that shitty band." & he pulled me to the side & told me to not yell & calm down. And I did. He said something about being his bro & I said, "Well, I was his fucking girlfriend. I sucked his dick. Did you do that?" & we laughed & that was pretty much the end of that conversation. Then I wandered off to buy turqiouse undergarments that probably won't be worn as undergarments.

I hate my fucking incoherant ramblings about nothing. I try to save them for myself, but sometimes when I'm sleepy or high - they just come out. & sometimes they're grand & slightly philosophical & sometimes they're so fucking out there that I don't even know what I'm talking about. I should really stop talking to myself. & I should get over all of those weird pet peeves I have that basically only apply to me. Man, I seriously feel like I lose it a little bit more every fucking day. I need drugs. Gimmie, gimmie. Please...

I used to hate everything about Texas for reasons only certain people would know. But I head this song at the ending of a movie called "Bluest Eyes in Texas" & I downloaded it & decided it's not that bad of a song. I can listen to it now. I can sing it & feel it. It's a horrible thing to have resentment for someone you've never met, never will meet, & no longer have a reason to hate, or resent, rather. But I do.

I think it should be an unwritten law of females not to fuck with another ladies man. If for no other reason than respect. If all you can get is an attached man, then you have no charm at all. You have jealousy issues & homewrecker syndrome. & that is a warning to all the lovely ladies who have fantasies of my lovely James, touch & fingers will be violently removed from your body. K-pish?

I should probably try to clean a bit more. & someone please tell my heart to stop beating. Thanks, you guys.

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