I am a scavenger

Friends Only

excluding a few entries. Add me and maybe I'll add you back.

studying and writing all weekend. let's see how much free time I get.
I think I'm sick
I think I'm tired

I made new friends and they're actually so normal
finally
maybe now I'll get out of bed more often.

no- I think I lie in bed because my white sheets are so soft. Or because my alarm clock doesn't work
Maybe. Whatever, I'm kind of really stressed

rantz

Or maybe it's because I dont sleep

I need more time. Or less. Maybe with less I'd manage it better
like the poor guy who actually knows what to do with a dollar
Depends
Who is that guy? I don't fucking know, but he probably didn't do his homework either.

There have been refreshing changes
It's like I'm shedding skin
Only, not skin. Other things.
Or maybe I'm surrounding myself with gold. Not even gilded, but gold. Things are real again

But my back hurts.
so does my head
If these are my troubles,
My life really is as good as it seems
As I make it
Because I do make it

I'm going to lie in bed now
and think of myself
and write a letter
(yes, to you anastasia).
bbl, or something.

and this person gets it.




( have you really forgotten? )

perfection.

You throw around the word "love" like
You mean it
Or something.
Try "wuv."
It's safer.

Enticing.

----

Me?
I'm between those crazy, spiked walls. They're slowing creeping in on me. They're from some movie.
Also, there are alligators below me, or sharks, or the past, or the future, making the spikes my...frien-emy.
Death vs. Death. Death vs. Adverse situations. Certain destruction vs. Possible destruction.
In a comical sense.
I just don't know.

eleven days

Call me? "lol."

I don't love you all. I don't even love most of you. I can't and that is what makes me a true lover of mankind.

To be appalled by any sign of the moral individual's degeneration---but not in the biblical sense
To expect more of man

Anyway, what is to be taken in the biblical/religious sense? Different strokes for different folks, right? Or, whatever makes us tick---as long as we're on the right time and keep ticking. Ticking. What is the right time? So many things are unimportant and it is, or can be, so easy to live, or tick.

And, one day, I won't die with The Horror in my eyes.

And we whistle, brush it off, check our comments . . .

Well . . . we don't.

I feel so good right now---so unbelievably good.

I don't know why anyone would voluntarily talk to me.

I don't know how to help and that kills me. The best I can do is be there-- and I will be.

I don't even have a grasp on what real is anymore.
Or who is, for that matter.
I've been thinking that maybe i've let certain priorities slip through my fingers- I certainly haven't let them go completely, though. I've decided to not to change my lifestyle but intensify my dedication in what I already think is important. Chances are you aren't on that list, so prepare to see less of me.
It probably doesn't matter much to you anyway, and I'm happy about that
and it is beautiful.
You're free to hate me! And free to tell me so!
I've been feeling so busy lately, but, in reality, I haven't been.
The mind is an interesting thing to occupy your time with.
Thinking--
Thinking--
Thinking--
Thinking--
THINKING THINKING THINKING THINKING
and It's time for bed-- already.
Dreaming--
Dreaming--
Dreaming--
Dreaming--
Dreamingdreamingdreamingdreaming
Or so I'm told
You should tell yourself, too

Usually, if a person is not funny, he or she won't be an interesting writer.
Just putting that out there.

I don't want to be here right now; I should be counting down the days till I leave for Argentina, but i'm too god damn lazy. I don't want to sound lame, but I feel pretty numb.

I have really lost my patience. If I don't pay you, and you really haven't been asked for advice, don't feel obligated to give me your opinion. I really don't want it and I won't listen to it anyway. Everyone is a fucking psychologist these days.

I can't wait till Sneed, my ride or die bitch, gets here so that we can spoon some more.

Post Script: Genny got a nosering; it looks SO damn cute.

Make the most of yourself, for that is all there is of you.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Emerson: I love him. I should give him a ring; he would be worth my time.

I don't want to be here right now. Everything that has happened to me this year is supposed to be over, but it doesn't feel like it. What is dragging me down? While I don't know why i'm here, Mr. Balkcom's speech today made me feel that there is some reason for existence. I couldn't stop crying after school; he's so insightful sometimes.

I cry a lot, and sometimes, I like to cry. In fact, sometimes I love to cry. I don't even look like shit when I cry. Crying keeps us from being swallowed up in the hum-drum of everyday life- unless you cry everyday. It at least keeps me human.
If you cry everyday, we're probably related. It would actually be nice to have more relatives.

My English teacher's eloquence is so attractive. Why is he not a writer? I love people who can write. Write a good damn sentence and i'll probably marry you; that is how severe the wont of interesting, talented people that I know is. I kind of want a boyfriend. I need a boyfriend with some original, even coherent, thoughts and half of a brain. Actually, I kind of want a slave. As a nice person, I would treat my slave with respect-
to some degree, at least.
I'd want my slave him to be Swedish, but not blond. I usually always hate blond hair, it's cheesy.

I don't want to be a senior. I want to go back through high school, reliving things with the knowledge I have now that I didn't have before. I don't want to go anywhere else at this point in my life. I've been trying to escape my own Charybdis: the future. I like surprises, but I would like to know when things will get better. What am I doing with myself. I could sit, staring at the lantern swinging from my fan, forever; it's worth a try.

AP's were all right. Stayed at school till seven today; had a good time tying ribbon to PVC pipes.

"The earth has a spirit and it's breathing on my soul"

Mr. Balkcom.

I still havn't seen Borat. There is going to be an issue. I miss my car. My dad is letting me borrow one of his, which looks like this:





YEAH, COOL!
I'm going to a latin club volunteer thing from 12-6 today. WHY DID I SIGN UP FOR THIS dfghjkl
Also, I want a pug.