my world

I think I have writer's block. I haven't gone this long without writing in forever. I'm really lonely. I'm craving attention. I miss the faces of my peers. Everone's got their own thing in summer. If force is the only way I can be around people, than maybe I'm more ready for school to begin than i thought. If I hear anything about Jon and Kate Gosselin one more time I think I'll drink gasoline. Every year I have a birthday, I get older, yet the setting remains the same. Not only is the setting the same, but just about every aspect of my life as well. I need to do something. I need to get busy. I need to get busy doing something that I know will be great. I need to make a dent in somebody else's life so that I don't remain forgotten. I need a project. Nothing has gone as planned with my world and my life. I better get to work or things will only get harder.

death of icons

EVERYBODY IS DYING! THIS HAS GOT TO STOP!

Today, not only FARRAH FAWCETT, but MICHAEL JACKSON both died.

this is ridic!
Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, Elvis, John Lennon, John Belucci, River Phoenix, Princess Diana, Anna Nicole, Heath Ledger, Natasha Richardson, David Carradine... WHY!

well, on this day I will remember the feathered hair, and famous poster, and the legend that is Farrah Fawcett

and listen to Billie jean, thriller, smooth criminal, bad, Beat it, etc. and remember the king of pop.


R.I.P

Birthdays

Birthdays, to some, a day that is dead set on complete attention of one individual who is showered in gifts, and most commonly throws a celebration of sorts.

to me, a yearly reminder that i have gone another 365 days without accomplishing a goal or making anything of myself.

This day passes quickly, like any other day.

When I was younger, and unaware of the ignorance of children, I would throw a party.
This party consisted of me inviting a bunch of people from school to my house, half the people I wasn't friends with, and that's most likely why only half the people showed up.

in less than 15 minutes, the majority of the guests that even bothered showing up left without a word.

Today, any house with alcohol and a pool is a sactuary to teenagers.
teenagers who will get drunk, go in your front yard, though you urged them to stay in the back, and two boys will get in a fight, at which time the neighbors will call the police, and less than an hour before this "party" began, it will be over.

this is not my idea of a good time, so I do not have parties.

I don't get presents.

The night normally ends up with me, alone, watching the wedding singer and reciting the song Adam Sandler sings ...." Somebody kill me please, Somebody kill me plaaaaaaaze! i'm on my knees pretty pretty please KILL ME. I want to dieeeee... put a bullet in my heeeee-e-e-e-ead!"


and then i fall asleep, I wake up a year older, and my life remains the same as all the previous years.

I am an eternal cynic, i guess.

bummer summer

"Maybe you were all faster than me
We gave each other up so easily
These silly little wounds will never mend
I feel so far from where I've been
So I go,
and I will not be back here again
I'm gone as the day is fading on white houses
I lied, wrote my injuries all in the dust
In my heart is the five of us
In white houses
And you, maybe you'll remember me
What I gave is yours to keep In white houses"

TOGA! TOGA!

Of course I would be the only one actually wearing a toga.


Ahhh, It's nice for an old lady to feel young again every once in a while.

"Never depend on anybody, because they seldom come through"
-Victoria Sunseri

drink.drank.drunk.stupid sophomore

Today, or (tonight) I was the average teenager. It was an "out of body" experience, considering i am closer to being a 60 year old woman, than a teenager. I am always awkward. I never am aquainted with anyone. Somehow, once the alcohol takes a few laps through your blood, you become comfortable doing just about anything. There's always that little aspect of you that is still there, saying " what the fuck are you doing, you worthless sophomore." The alcohol is very successful at blocking most of those voices out. It's sad, you know, getting drunk, just to feel like you are worth something; just to slur instead of speak eloquantly; just to fall over as you walk; just to blend in with the drunken, naive teenagers, as you are an old woman drinking in the body of a 15 year old. No matter how good or bad I feel during the night; it will always be sad as you go home ALONE and EMPTY-HANDED, as I always do. When you are home, in your bed, writing while you still have a buzz; it all comes down to -I am the same girl as I was when the night started; alone and unhappy. The alcohol flowing through your veins causes you to be truthful, and i have to type that truthfulness to a computer; because saying it to a human will ruin their high; they don't get it, you are 60 and they are 16.

damn it, take your pills, swallow them with water, throw away your, now, beer-flavored gum, and drink another enormous swig of water to clear you of your impure(teenaged) thoughts, so nobody can tell in the morning.