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| annaLeBelle (profile) wrote, on 4-6-2004 at 5:05pm | |
| Current mood: blank Music: .hack//SIGN-FakeWings/Make Descision Subject: I'm really worried about him.. |
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| Well, today and yesterday were pretty much blah. Joe got his chains taken away on friday by some really bitchy lady because I was holding on to it, so today he had to go get them from the office but he couldn't because Dr. Pruit wasn't there. (wasn't that a mouthful?) Anyways.. I feel like I'm a glacier, drifting further and further away from what I once knew. I've been trying to get back with the 'old crowd', but I findit increasingly difficult to sustain everyones dneeds and wants. Shannon no longer really talks to me. Maybe it was because I shut her out, who knows. Me and Jocleyn are on better terms, I even wore her sweater today. Oh, and don't tell anyone, but I like her scent. I just have this thing.. I can discern people by their scent, but hers is the prettiest I've smelled. Fresh, like rain or water.. a waterfall, maybe? I don't know.. I always get this sense that I'm an animal almost. This must sound like a loud of bull, but I scare myself with alot of the things I realize, smell, hear.. and think. I found out that Tabitha wasn't actually going out with BRittany, they were just going to church together on Wednesday. Tabitha's nice.. so I was jealous. I've really liked her, though I would readily deny it. She's been a good friend to me and I can talk to her about pretty much anything. But, to make it worse, Brittany shoved it in my face, trying to piss me off. She was just trying to yank the lid off of my steaming pot of anger. "If you do not shut up, I think you will find your face with a hole punched through it." I've been talking with my mom, and we've been having some pretty good conversations. I'm liking what I'm hearing. Maybe when I move, I really can start a new life. I can be liberated. Learn bass guitar. Practice with my violin. Make my own clothes. Be myself.. live the sheltered life. Get a good paying job. And the bet thing of all, I'll be happy knowing I never have to hurt again. It will mean sacrifice, leaving everything I know behind. But, to get something good, you have to give something good. However, if that statement is true. What do I have to give away to Joe or Nick? My sanity? My previous relations? I have already given my heart to both and I worry about them constantly. Even though Nick is a thousand miles away, I still worry that he's alright. and when he's in pain.. I really want to make it better. But I know physically I can't. I can never touch him or hold him or kiss him or embrace him. I can only fantacize about him and I. And as for Joe, I love him with the remains of my wounded body, my tattered soul and my wihered heart. Though I know we will never be as close mentally and emotionally as Nick and I are, I can hold him. Smell him, taste him. I yet, the things I find easy to talk to with Nick, are perilously difficult for me to talk to with Joe. And the things liesurely to talk to with Joe, I find taxing with Nick. And thn there is the pressure of always looking good for Joe. I don't have to look good for Nick, he cannot see me. Both relationships find me in great strain. I want to make both of their worries go away. I want people to accept this from me. I want alot of things. I'm like a needy child. There is still many things I do not understand and so, I find myself lost in my own thoughts. And lastly, here's a poem about my Spanish teacher which I think you all shall find amusing. I have a Spanish teacher named Mrs. Roque And her sexual status is: tho totally gay. She's very fat and round as a grape; And she slightly resembles a hairy ape. She has 6 chins with whiskers on each. The people all run when she goes to the beach. She eats and eats and eats some more, I think she even raided the grocery store. She yells,"Referral,referral for you!" And her breath really reeks like puppy doo. (I know for this poem she surely will sue) That unibrow she needs desperately to pluck. Everyone in her class finds it really does suck. The sweaters on her are way to tight. She can hardly waddle from left to right. And I bet her wife, in bed she crushes. And for her wig she probably has several brushes. She talks to fast I can hardly think. The fat on her face makes it hard to blink. The sight of her makes me want to hurl, But for that she'd probably give me a referral. And we all in class do abhor, That putrid, fat, and ugly whore. P.S.-We stabbed her in the chest, 6 times for each chin. And she simply imploded when we poked her with a pin. The End ( Y ) <~A butt |
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Ratanatheevilkitty | 04-07-04 5:51pm I like that word.. abhor... mwahaha!! ^___^ anyway... *smells self* I don't think I smell very good.... *sniff sniff* I can't smell ANYTHING!! *whimper* |
AnnaLeBelle | Re:, 04-07-04 7:04pm It's because I notice alot more than I should. It is a tad embarrassing that you read that.. |