| Current music: | Bitch and Animal - push the system |
My Life and Adbusters as a cultural beacon
I don't keep an accurate record of my life. And I know my mind is faulty. I cannot even remember details from last night. I remember the way my spiky-haired friend smells, and how precise he is when doing his hair. Meticulous even. But I don't remember what time he left at, or what brand of hair dye I used to (quite poorly unfortunately) dye his hair blue. I remember he was upset because I did such a pitiful job. I've never dyed anyone's hair so poorly in my life, and I hope I never will again. Although I'll never be able to prove any sort of competence to him now. Not that I particularly want to remember the shade of blue that contaminates his green eyes when he's upset, but I would like to at least remember what we talked about. Why I agreed to dye his hair in the first place. Or any other important detail about the night. Or about any night this year. What did I do the other 5 nights this week? Or any of the nights last week? What's the name of the band I wanted to check out?
**** Hold that thought for a realization
It's not laziness it's apathy... depression even. I care what people think, but not enough to try and change it. I mean most people put on faces, they get pretty to go out. Not me. I get uglier sometimes it seems. I don't want people to see me in a good way. I wish they didn't see me at all. I guess it has to do with the whole disappearing thing. I don't want to look good because then people will notice me. and if people notice me I can't be invisible. not that I illusion myself that I am invisible even slightly so. but it took me ages to get my labret done. and took me even longer to dye my hair an unnatural shade of red. I don't sing along to the radio in front of other people. I don't dance.
I'm too tired to think about this anymore. this has been a 3 hour project and I still don't know what I'm talking about.
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