I am very bored, which doesn't suite me well.

I have homework, but it's just a statement of intent and it's not due until Friday. I could clean but most everything is clean. I cleaned the bathroom last night. My sheets could be changed, I guess. I might do that. But Grant is at school and Katie is not online and I have no interest to paint, but maybe I will try.

anyways.

Second Saturday. 6-10. McMartin Reality on 19/K. Be there.

What in the fuck is the past-tense of "fell" as in, "I FELLED?! asleep last night." I felt asleep? I fell asleep? I FALLED ASLEEP?!

JESUS HELP ME.

as;h'g3095rr-e0atfd[pnklghup[wiprga;ldjkhkls;a'dr'wetr;5lykhnngvvccxfxarsew4t35ty.

FUCKING SCHOOL.
JESUS CHRIST.

It is 12:35 AM and I have officially started my reading of the last Harry Potter Book. Go me.

Okay you gaiz. It's 5:20. This is the last time I will talk to you, I think.

I love you all. See you when I get back. :3

...Uh... Temari tagged me but I have no books around. :(

So I write this instead:

WOULD YOU, COULD YOU, WITH A BAT? WOULD YOU, COULD YOU, WEARING A HAT?

I think we're conditioned to listen to people when they're in the shape of a square.

I wish I could believe so whole-heartedly in something, like some kids do anime or Marilyn Manson, who I've given credit to the quote above. I wish I could be completely immersed in something so simple, so very easy to meld into and believe in. I wish I could do it like they used to. Like I used to. I wish I wasn't so cynical. I wish I could say "I love Marilyn Manson! He's so smart and original!" But all I can do when I look at him is say, "Yeah, he's a neat little entertainer. Some of what he says is nice, but it's all so damned washed up." I want to not be cynical.

cyn·i·cal /ˈsɪnɪkəl/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[sin-i-kuhl] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation –adjective

1.	like or characteristic of a cynic; distrusting or disparaging the motives of others.

2.	showing contempt for accepted standards of honesty or morality by one's actions, esp. by actions that exploit the scruples of others.

3.	bitterly or sneeringly distrustful, contemptuous, or pessimistic.

I wish I wasn't cynical. I wish I could be trustful, I wish I could be optemistic. I wish I could be accepting and believing in humanity.

Marilyn Manson talks about kids who are washed up. About kids who get beat up by jocks, about kids who dress differently- probably like him -about jocks, "the popular kids at school". I don't know. Am I a popular kid, Marilyn Manson? Am I vile, Marilyn Manson? I wear Gap, I wear Old Navy. Fuck, I'm in jeans and vans and a white tee-shirt. Am I normal, Marilyn Manson? Would you like me, Marilyn Manson? Even though I think your music is just okay, that you're fun to be angry to, and you make okay covers? Is it okay that I don't love you? Is it okay, Marilyn Manson? Can I pass the test? I think I want to. Do I want to?

Are you our Jesus, Marilyn Manson? Brian Warner? My friend who went to Catholic School? Am I okay? I wish I had someone to ask all of these things. Sometimes I wish I could have a conversation with people like this. With people like Marilyn Manson who are revered by his fans as a genius, someone who understands them. I wish I could have a conversation and know if I'm like them or not. I don't care. I mean, sure it'd be okay. I like you, Marilyn Manson. You're nice looking, you have good music, you're smart. I like you, Mr. Marilyn Manson. I don't love you. I don't think you're a genius. I think you are washed up, I think you say the same things everyone else says but because you're Mr. Marilyn Manson you get special recognition. But I think you say pretty things that appeal to people. I think you are Marilyn Monroe, Mr. Manson. I think you are mass appeal and nothing more. Do you like that? Does that go against everything you preach, or is that okay? I think that's okay. I think mass appeal is okay. Don't you? Or does that go against everything you believe in?

My day was alright. I went to Sullivan's, I went to the library and read about Nixon. He was "incredibly sensitive". He is the only president to resign as of yet. He was a smart man, I think. He was a horrible person for covering up the now infamous Watergate Scandal. He introduced the first Environmental precautions. I think he was pretty okay. Do you like him, Marilyn Manson?

I went to Robert's and I read a little bit of my book. I went to Math and he checked homework. I was glad that I did it on Friday because that means I can keep my B- grade, which is what I need in that class. Well, a flat B would be better, but alas. I'm getting my grades up! Slowly but god damned surely I am, I promise you that. Does that mean I'm getting better?

I went to PE and I listened to music, and we did Tennis and I made fun of some short little fat man who was full of himself. I went to lunch and I talked with Gabe and I talked with Andi. Andi made a very nice shirt with doves on it. I went to Carson's and did my class-work and I slept. I went to Japanese and slept and drew a dress and a lady looking away from the world and out of the ocean, wishing she could be a little krill to smash her skull against a rock. Wishing she weren't the way she was. Wishing she were another one out there and not the one, the only one, in here. Wishing that didn't make her selfish and conceited.

I went home and I played the sims. I talked to Kate and I talked to Nate. I tried to watch the X-files but it wasn't on. I talked to people on Myspace and I tried to find that damned ad for Marilyn Manson but I couldn't. And then I got here, and I wrote. I wrote and I wrote and I questioned myself and a man who will never know or give a fuck about me. I'm glad though. I hope, Mr. Manson, Mr. Anti-Christ Super Star, Mr. Washed Up, I hope that you have nice life. I hope something goes okay. I hope maybe you realize that you are just like them. And that it's okay.

But as Kate says, none of it really matters, because at the end of the day your philosophy isn't what signs your paycheck, Mr. Manson. It's your mass appeal.

Goodnight, Mr. Marilyn Monroe

Just so you know, I don't give a fuck about your birthday. And this makes me feel good. Very good. Vertigo, I love you like an old friend.


I love anger/agressive moods. They are so empowering. Maybe it was the movie. Maybe it's my lack of pills. I don't know. I just want you to know that I hope you die in a fire. Fuck, I don't even know who you are. I'm just directing my anger at an unknown force but it feels good. I don't like you. I don't even hate you. I despise you. I hope you die by tylenol poisoning. I hope someone stabs you in the stomach as you are dying and I hope that it HURTS. I hope that your stomach acid eats away at your skin, but slowly- almost teasingly so that it makes you writh inside, and I hope you get some IN YOUR EYES so that it burns indefinately. I hope it is so slow that someone comes and looks down on you, but realizes you aren't worth their time either and so they leave you there. I hope that the acid slowly melts away and gives way to something like BATTERY ACID and it hurts. I hope it hurts but I hope you chew your fingernails so bad that when you try to peel it off it BURNS YOUR SKIN UNDERNEATH YOUR NAILS and I hope it is so painful you can't cry because you have no iron or salt left in your body. I hope that when you finally do die, you realize how entirely pointless you are. How nothing you've done has ever contributed to society positively and I hope it sinks in with a weight unparrelled to anything I can even think of. I hope that when someone finds you, they don't even care. I hope your body ROTS and TURNS BLUE and I hope it HURTS even though you're DEAD. COLD AND DEAD, LIKE FUCKING BOLOGNA SANDWICH COLD. HA. BITCH. YOU ARE SANDWICH MEAT. I hope someone eats you on accident, thinking you're some sort of mystery meat their mother made. I hope they comment on your chicken-flavour and I hope later they regret it after getting a stomache ache.

I hope you dream about this. I hope it hurts and I hope you know I laugh at your pain the same way I've laughed before at other's pain. 

I love listening to Mozart's Requiem because I feel so epic.

Also, I feel mildly guilty for consoling someone on their bad day as I look at shouta. Is that wrong?

I LOST MY iPOD, IF YOU SEE IT OR HAVE IT PLEASE TELL ME.

It's got an orange and red case, rubber. It's a v2 iPod nano in silver; 1G. The serial number is: YM6365QVQ5

I REPEAT, PLEASE, IF YOU SEE IT OR KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT IT FUCK, PLEASE- FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GIVE IT BACK.

My father will kill me if I loose it.

EDIT: Hahaha, I fouuuund iiiit. >>;'

There was, undeniably, a beauty about him that he was sure he'd never understand. He was perfect, he was home- he was safe, and it was all he'd ever need.

He was the lover he'd been born to love, born to be with for all and eternity. It was such a strange feeling that he was sure it would some day dissapear, and with the lack of that simple feeling, he would die.

Simply.
Die.


The leaves in the fall were red, and orange, and so many colors that he couldn't see.  It was all a shade of gray for him, but oh- when he looked to the other, he saw in vivid color, and it was his best- his only -memory. When they were little, he remembers, just barely- because his memory isn't the best anymore -sitting under the trees and just being... together. It was his dream, it was- heaven. But he doesn't know what heaven is, after all.

They lived together for so long, just children. Outside they sat in the trees, watching leaves fall and other kids play, and sometimes he wondered if the other wanted to go play, but he never did. And so he was happy. And in the winter they sat inside the small home of the other that had, over time, become his own home. And they sat inside while the other's mother made food, and he slipped him extra food when they sat together, watching the snow fall; and once it was over- they played in the snow, feet making steps in the virgin whiteness.

When he see the kunai close in, he moves, horrible noises escaping his voice and the kunai meant for the other, it gets him right in the heart- right in that place where it was sure to kill, sure to destroy the dream that was so precious to him. And the other runs over to him, as soon as that devil- the destroyer of the dream and of everything that he'd ever believed in -was gone, taking him up in his arms, screaming hysterically at him, even though the other knew so well that he couldn't hear him anymore- not anymore.

Hinata watches it from a few feet away, watches as the tears begin, and she can feels something well up inside her for their dying commrade, something she'd never felt before- it was... beautiful.

The dream is over, though, but he's happy. Because his last moments were in color; not just him, but in complete color, and he knows- he knows, even though he's not very smart -that he's done his job.

I feel horrible. 

I want a dog so badly. I got to hold one today, and I want it so badly. It hurts. It really hurts. Physically, to not have it. I just feel so lonely now, without him. It was like finding a missing piece. I miss my dogs so badly, and it was like filling a hole in me. I didn't even know it was there, but now I feel so bad. I just want to have my dog and go to the park and be happy. It would be so nice. It's like a dream now.

I can just see it. Sitting with my pup and doing homework, or walking or eating ice-cream or anything. I want it so badly. It would be so wonderful. I would be so happy.

This song isn't helping much but I've been listening to it over and over again.

When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful
Every hour we spent together, lives within my heart
And when she was sad, I was there to dry her tears
And when she was happy, so was i, when she loved me.

Through the summer and the fall, we had each other, that was all
Just she and I together, like it was meant to be
And when she was lonely, I was there to comfort her
And I knew that she loved me.

So the years went by, I stayed the same
And she began to drift away, I was left alone
Still I waited for the day, when she’d say "i will always love you."

Lonely and forgotten, never thought she’d look my way,
She smiled at me and held me, just like she used to do,
Like she loved me, when she loved me

When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful,
Every hour we spent together, lives within my heart
When she loved me.

Mmm, poptarts.

My father gave me a 'The Kinks' CD; I like it a lot, so I've been listening to it for a while now. Kate, I think you would like them much. They are a lot like... 60's pop-rock, but I really do like them. Or like the Beatles, now that I think about it.They sang Lola, you know- Loooola, L-O-L-A, lola!

I still need to do my laundry badly, but I haven't gotten around to doing it yet. I want to see my therapist soon, and I just noticed "the rapist" and "therapist" are nearly the same words. Hee-hee.

My new word is 'nifty' and oh god, I miss the Possum already. Kaaaate, will you bring him tomorrow, please? I will love you forever if you do.

I broke it off with Abbey and things are just kind of retarded. She is angry at me and I don't care, which I tried to explain but I don't think she understands it.


Oh well. I need to get some good sleep, but I want to clean my room first and put this Kinks Album on my iPod.

Woot. iPod connected and updated; room cleaned; laundry started.

I am accomplished and I am tired as fuck.

Each player of this game starts off with 10 weird things/habits/little known facts about yourself. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 10 weird habits/things/little known facts as well as state this rule clearly. At the end you need to choose 10 people to be tagged and list their names. No tag backs.


1. I lick the wrappers of my bubble gum, and I do so every time, or else I feel weird.

2. When I find a song I like, I listen to it over and over again for a day straight and then never listen to it again.

3. I hate emo music because it all sounds the same, even though my music all sounds the same.

4. I sit on Myspace a lot.

5. I'll never do Community service,what shit.

6. I crack the knuckles between the tips of my fingers and the main knuckle, and it feels so good,

7. I could be a lot more successful, pretty, smart, rich, etc. if only I wanted to be, but I don't want to do what it is I have to do to get there, because I don't think it's worth it.

8. I don't ever use acne medication, because I'm convinced it actually makes your acne worse.

9. I still want a dog really badly, and every time I see one I  s i g h  and wish I had a pup to call my own.

10. I can't spell for shit, and I had to go check how to spell "successful".

I tag supermadichan , tsuzukinoai , messer , sooty_crayon , gimedadrugs , charcoal_pirate , nullshail_666

Yeah. That's (almost) ten people.