you say yes i say no

i'm regaining my confidence, i guess i just do better with brunette curly hair.
ugh what did i just do?! i just now texted z a compliment, he doesn't deserve them! i'm just lonely, i guess.
- isn't coming back to town, he's never coming back, no matter how many times i call or wish or beg god or cry or scream. i watched a movie the other night that reminded me so much of him, i almost stopped it. but i just can't resist the whole squeezing lemons on a knife wound thing. i'm sick, sorry. not as sick as parker, goodness that boy makes me laugh until i pee a little.
i miss my pookie, i'm glad we're working on hanging out more. there's just some things i can tell her that kmac wouldn't understand or care about. like the fact that i used a different hairspray this morning or switched bronzers or that one boy that said something to me and we try to decipher what it means. we can talk about each of the previous for like ten minutes apiece. but she doesn't understand the difference between a 6b or a 4b graphite, or a bomb thrift store i found out about.
i need sleep, enjoy yours.


ps-i very very much enjoyed the stupid rambunction function with the people that are reading this. and that wrinkly old crossing guard is a dumb cunt, everyday is a fight with myself not to shove her infront of an suv.

and life goes on

within you and without you.

freshman and sophmore year? ain't shit. i'm a junior, a junior. i remember being in 4th grade and wishing being so excited so ready to be a grown up 5th grader. it's september 15th of 200fucking9 and if this and next year go half as quickly as fresh and soph, i don't know what i'm going to do. the only arrangements that i have as for my first out-of-home-home is that i'm going to have the beatles version of rock band so i can get stoned and play *'within you without you'. which i'll be doing after christmas, anyway. i started school a month ago thinking i was going to be this person, and i've changed more and less than i thought i would within the first month. my current best friend drives a '92 dodge spirit and skips lunch to save money for camel wides, which is my new vice. i quite literally throw on whatever is on my floor and write jokes as answers to biology homework. i'm so so so self-conscious though. i wish i didn't have to treat my hair or check myself from every angle or reanalyze everything before i say it or worry if that look she just gave him was about me but i just do. i was 'dating' a guy, but told him i don't want to hang out with him anymore. he doesn't smell like -, doesn't hug or kiss or make sarcastic communist jokes like -, doesn't have that sparkle in his eye or understnad me or piss me off like -, doesn't become one with me or throw me or give me chills like -. i miss my old art class, more than you could know. i miss the kelsquared and talking about bob dylan and obama and warhol with the mac, having freedom in my work, the looks and silent jokes kelsquared and i gave each other when the weird kids talked to me and did their weird things. i am infatuated with my spanish teacher who **es muy muy guapo y un liberalo!! sarah calls me a creeper. my art teacher told me i should submit an AP portfolio to apply for the college credit, but i've seen the others' work and i have no faith that i can do it but hey it wouldn't hurt to try. god kierst is just so amazing, she worked on this piece for like 4 hours and only had the outlines and the upper face done. and it looks JUST LIKE the photo. not like 'oh, that looks just like the photo, i mean it looks like someone just black-and-whited the photo. i tell her i can't wait until she graduates so i can consider myself a decent artist again.


*'within you without you', i just don't know how i didn't know about this song until last week. you must must look it up, listening to it makes everything sound like utter trash.
**my broken spanish for 'is very very handsome and a liberal!'

slappin da bass

my hair is getting long, i need to sit down and write a good damn blog.

just give me a few days and i'll have one.