1 word: grar.
11.08.2001, 1:13 a.m.

had a northern lad, well not exactly had. he moved like the sunset. god who painted that-

so. i feel a little better besides my nerves, my ears, and the ulcer in my mouth.

first he loved my accent. how his knees could bend. i thought we'd be ok, me and my molasses.

the mommy and the unidentical twin sister are doing better (if you're reading this for the first time.. man are you gonna be confused). well, at least they sound it. more calm now. i should really get crackin' on that cast list and the sort. but, i'm lazy and tired. which is not really.. justification.

but i feel something is wrong. but i feel this cake just isn't done. don't say that you don't. and if you could see me now, said if you could see me now.

meh. anyway. real mom isn't bein too nice. but i think i'm so tired that i don't care. dad is a typical asshole. kaleigh is getting on my nerves. my sister messaged me from out of nowhere because she was 'thinking about me', so, hey whatever.

girls you've got to know when it's time to turn the page when you're only wet because of the rain.

i'm really in love with tori amos. but then again, every month, or a few weeks, it's a new obsession. it gets old. that line right there 'girls you've got to know when it's time to turn the page when you're only wet because of the rain' is me. i need to learn that.

he don't show much these days. it's gets so fucking cold. i loved his secret places, but i can't go anymore.

isn't it great that this song is semi-about *you know who* but in it's entirety, it's completely not. i've been doing a good job at not giving two shits about him. and woohoo, let's not break the streak.

"you change like sugar care" says my northern lad. i guess you go too far when pianos try to be guitars.

i read some of josh's lyrics tonight. and sweet damn they are good. he's getting a new car, which i think is pretty bad ass. he's also trying to start a racing team (for cars) which i think is not-so-badass. but boys'll be boys. as long as he doesn't kill himself, it's cool. he's a pretty good driver. he got away from the road rager pretty fast. i just refuse to like car racing. not after all the accidents that have plagued my whole life. between mike, rick, my parents, and me, we've got enough car wrecks. ugh.

i feel the west in you. and i feel it falling apart too. don't say that you don't.

he has his interview for cyber school tomorrow. he's such a geek sometimes. but it's cute. he's gonna kick it's ass. so it's not a problem. the josh and me had a good talk. and tomorrow night we're talking about 'us'. so, what comes out of that, i shall know tomorrow. life is just one stop and go after another.

don't say that you don't. and if you could see me now, said if you could see me now.

things are good. things are bad. things are inbetween. no matter what way a situation goes, i've got someone to answer to. people tell me 'you don't have to answer to anyone but your parents' or 'anyone but god'. yeah-fucking-right. i have to answer to my parents like no other, i have to answer to friends who question my every move, i have to answer to people who think one thing when it's not really that way. there are few people i enjoy answering to. and at times, i hate answering to all people because they aren't living as me. i'm tempted to make a britney spears layout just so i can say 'fuck you'. cuz i'm learning to not care what people say. it's a great experience to tell some dude to go fuck a tree and mean it, not just to say that and cover up your inner insecurity. i think people who criticize people who are weaker, appear to be weaker, or appear to be 'better' are fucking retards. and that people have to censor themselves makes me even more upset. when you say 'i'm a retard' and you have to correct yourself, like the loverly bloodstained. who, might i add, has the scariest picture on his older page that i've ever seen (besides linda blair in her get-up for the exorcist). it makes me mad that a writer has to leave out certain things since the september 11 tragedy. leaving things out of the news does NOT make it go away. believe me, my family has been trying it for years, it DOES NOT WORK. grar. i hate stupid fucking people. like the people who left alayah a stupid guestbook message saying "PROZAC KILLS." i went to the website, they are talking out their ass to make it seem like they know what the fuck their talking about so you get scared and run away. it also makes me really fucking mad that i feel the need to censor myself becaues my sister might read, or someone i don't want to read will read. now i realize, you're invading my little bit of privacy, so, you also, can go fuck a tree.

girls you've got to know when it's time to turn the page, when you're only wet because of the rain.

mmm... so tomorrow holds unsolved mysteries. and tomorrow holds bitching from quite a few people. hell, i may be bitching at people. cuz i'm waiting for the peoples to bitch at me, so i'll bite back (much like a snake, would you not say, alayah?). much like being insulted. i hate people. hatehatehatehatehate. ooh i'm pissed. i better go to bed before i hit something.

when you're only wet because of the rain.

so, i shall keep the masses updated on the situation with josh. (hah. masses.. this is rich.)

line me up in single file with all your grievances. stare but i can taste you're still alive befloew the waste. ripples come and ripples go, and ripple back to me.

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