Nostalgia of My Flesh Will Paralyze You
I need more makeout dreams with him.
Gah.
I don't know what there is to say, other than I misjudged my Moon days and they start tomorrow.
And this semester's boy has a nickname. Indiepoet Boy. It's becoming a cutesy thing.
Stephanie is brilliant. It is SO hard to do anything more than look. And its the Libra thing, I want to be paired. But the fucker is so lovely, so poetic and good and decent and smiley and pretty and psychically stroking.
Of course, in front of that is a fucking wall of self-hate. And the Indiegirl. But not in the way you'd expect. In a petty girl hate thing. It's so anti-feminist, but I don't care for her at all. Even if she has some of my same ideals, it's just like the long lashed boy and his girlfriend. She was so like me that it was only a matter of initiative and a lack of fear.
I wish I could put what Stephanie wrote, but...um, privacy, I guess. Not that I really give that much of a shit about privacy given that I write in a publick fucking diary.
Nevertheless.
I went to this award ceremony for English things, and I met this sweetheart other writer chick, but at first I felt like all pro-writers and solidarity and weepy and then, by the end of it, I was fucking pissed. Like stick a needle in my eye.
I was just really not interested in other writers, with Jane Austen Hair and black boots. Fark. Me either.
Jealousy, I think, really is attractive on me. I'm well-suited to it.
Boys should stop doing drugs. Specially ones I think are cute. I don't need a passed out creature on the end of my bed.
Stephanie makes a brilliant statement, about IPB being the stepping stone to some forked tongue stranger out on the roads in front of me. But, I thought the other boys were the stepping stones.
I should not be thinking about kissing this much. It's cutting down on my thinking about nothing time.
AAAAAAAAAaRGH.
Maybe if I just take my top off in class?
My design plan is just fucked up.
I need to read more. Stephanie is rankling up my reading bone.
I need to go to the gynecologist.
A few more of these zingers and we'd have a one woman show.
Fuck, I'm annoying myself...aaaaargh.
