strange steps take us back.

so, this weekend was fun. although i did mix hayfever medication with alcohol on friday night, and then some mcdonalds, which ended unpleasantly. last night we watched p.h.fat and i think they're cool, the way they dance like chickens, pull up their shoulders like little boys and play with the mic cords. and look you in the eye and smile; they're cool. and, of course, how they rap about dinosour blood, bugs and lions, and making love to superpowers. and vulgar things, too.

i like bathroom wall inscriptions, i like reading everything, and why is it so fucking tempting to write on it too? i want to write things, sentimental things. all flowery and romantic.

oh my god, everything hurts. my wrists, my elbows, my shoulders, my neck, my tongue. it feels like all blood circulation has been cut off, i can't even eat a teeny sample of milktart (which, by the way, was absolutely amazing) without my tongue hurting like shit. i can't move my arm without my elbows hurting even more like shit. wtf?

okay, over this post.

scumbag.

my camera and the usb, my memory sticks, my little ugly bag. i really don't hope they're gone, because i'll cry and my mom will kill me.

i don't know, i'm really tired, and today is going to be a long day. i'm going up the mountain (well, not really up the mountain, just a little higher than i am now) with megan, franki and bliss. hopefully that cheers me up, those people always make me laugh. after that, the stupid prize-giving is going to take up so much of my time it's a joke. i'm going to take my book like hero and i did at the hostel dinner, it works.

i wonder how long this period is going to be, and i wonder what i have after this. today feels like such a blur, nothing is really clear, today feels purposeless. i want to listen to the yeah yeah yeahs and the kills and get high on them, because that actually happens sometimes, and i like it, very much.

last night i dreamt that i met angelina jolie, and she was nice, it was kind of the coolest thing ever. i really think it's awesome how i dream all these things that i wish would happen in reality. yes, it sucks to wake up, look around and see nothing phenomenal except for drool or something, but it's cool to know what it feels like. well, not in the tactile sense, but the emotional sense.

bell rang, how fucking cool is that.

everywhere, kiss, kiss me.

oh my fuck i can't even string a coherent sentence together to explain how much you annoy me; you don't work on my nerves, you chew on them with razor-sharp fangs, you gnaw at the scabs from previous annoyances, you IRRITATE me. is that coherent? a little?

oh god i can't even write about happy care-free things because my chest is scratching uncomfortably after thinking about you and how your face can't change and how the pitch and the tone of your voice pierces my eardrum and makes my palette feel itchy in the most impossible place to reach, am i still blabbing incoherently?

i'm definitely a nocturnal person, it's when i'm most awake. which sucks, because i'm not a STUPID vampire. stupid vampires.

i'm sorry for ever saying all those things i never meant. i don't have reasons, or explanations. no excuses, only questions. why did you believe me? why do you STILL believe me?

why do i talk so much, why am i a social idiot, why do i never know what to say, why why why why why why why

i'm exhausted. excess, take, nobody, why, hopeless, pointless, useless, helpless, pathetic, ridiculous, over-the-top, too much, excess. it's a sharp shock.

you're cute :)