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*Sigh* I feel stuck. And I think about writing this entry, and I think of all the funny stuff I could dream up to put in it, as though I'm writing it for an audience. Like a book, or a play. But I'm not. I'm writing it for me. No one is out there reading this. So why do I feel I have to lie to myself. I like to sound clever. But at the end of the day, I'm no more clever than the next person. I'm the same as anyone else. No more special. It's nice to think it though. I did nothing today. Rolled out of bed at about 1ish I think it was. Laid in bed for a bit and dozed, got horny, got myself off. Went and made 4 slices of toast and some coffee despite promising myself yesterday that I would have a nice healthy fruity breakfast with all the fruit and stuff I bought yesterday. Ate my brekkie in bed, watched Cocoon, and cried at it!!! Got a shower and washed my hair. Couldn't be bothered putting my lenses in and doing my makeup cos I knew I wasn't going out of the house today. (Ha! Like I ever do!!!) And I've just sat on the net all day downloading stuff and wondering why no one was messaging me on msn messenger and icq. Totally missing the point of course, that I could message them if I wanted to. I'm spoilt tho. Too used to haveing other people make the first move, because, afterall, I don't look half bad at all on my pics. In truth, I don't think I look half bad at all in real life. Sometimes I'll look in the mirror, and catch myself at a certain angle, and think, FUCK! you're sooo ugly. I know my body isn't good, but other people don't seem to mind, so why should I. But I do. I sometimes go off into a kind of weird trance and just sit in front of the mirror, staring, until I look at myself so much that my own face becomes unknown to me, and I may as well just be staring at another person on tv. It's like when you say a word over and over again like, 'toilet', it eventually loses it's meaning, and you think 'wha the feck!' It's the same thing when you sit and stare at your face. It becomes unrecogniseable. Just another thing that your eyes happen to see and register and convert into something your brain can visualise is all. Do we even know if we're really there. It is, afterall, our brain that does all the hard work. What if it tricks us? Oh god...that's a convo reserved for a whole different day. I just can't be bothered today. It's stickily hot. So, I haven't verbally spoken to anyone all day. Haven't seen anyone all day. I don't think anyone else was in the house last night. My brother came back this morning...well...early afternoon, my morning. I heard his car, and he sounded pretty happy, and then he went back out and zoomed off again. My heart doesn't hurt as much anymore when I hear his car engine. Because I know, that someday soon...I'll be doing that. Driving to wherever I want. Maybe not as noisly lol! But I'll be going places. It may take me a few goes, and a few good months, and I may still be screwed for getting to uni when it starts in Sep. I may not be driving then. But he point is...I WILL be driving sometime soon. At some point I will be driving back and forth to uni, and I would like it to be quicker and sooner rather than later, but there's no point pushing it...it may not be. It may not happen. It depends on lots of things...not just me. But I will do it. I'll do anything for it. I want it bad. And I'm getting it. And that thought is almost as comforting as actually having it I think. It still hurts. But I'm getting it. I'm going there. I ran out of steam. I have goosebumps. It surprises me how honest I can be at times. And then I wonder....'but am I being honest, or is this just written for the pure entertainment factor'? Truthfully...I think I'm being honest. This is me. Don't hurt me. Be gentle. I am but a child. And I'm vulnerable and frail. I just want to get there...wherever there is. I think I'm starting to know...I know I'm going there...so does it really matter if I know what there is? I'm confusing me now. Gah! TV is crap tonight. I might just sit on this all night. Or I may go read my new book, or the 2 magazines I have. They're boring tho. I might do the book instead. Someone's back home. My dad I think. Yeah. Hmmmm. I'm not gonna edit this. Over n out :P (Poo, I edited it. Only the typos tho!!!) Post a comment in response: |
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