I like how my mom flips out when I say I hate everyone but who doesn't? One day they're telling you how much they care about you and the other how they come first. Unless they're completely ignoring you or wearing eyeliner or
being dicks or sitting on grass or playing the guitar or
bomberman or listening to your favorite band months after you got into them and having sex and being vegan and being
lacto-vegetarians or
not burning your fucking cds or sacrificing puppies, killing babies and pregnant women or watching movies or being tall and wearing flannel or doing things without you or doing nothing with you or more fucking or watching porn or pissing you off or not talking to you or not working or not driving or asking you for your
green card and social security number or crying on the
phone or being a sad, sad person or stabbing you in the back or recording your phone calls or humping a bible or bombing a church or wearing combat boots or getting
blowjobs or masturbating or having girlfriends or liking people or telling you you're wrong or telling you you're small or going "
awwh" or shoving
dildos up their asses or reading books or sulking or making out with everyone but you or being sweet or being
creeped out or not talking on
MySpace and knowing everyone but you or making their hair available for snatching or being out of reach or telling you it's not going to be awkward between you or playing
ddr and getting all sweaty and ditching you at the mall or making you want to hug them or hoping you'd choke on cookies or eating bananas or kissing each other with tongue piercings or wrapping it up or drawing better than you or starting wars or spreading rumors or making you want them or being seniors or saying hi to you in the hallways or making you not want to talk to them or making you feel guilty for liking someone or telling you about how they fucked and had sex and wrapped it up that one time and how they broke up and how they cut themselves or asking them "what the fuck
happened to your arm?" without knowing and you had to shoot them a look of "it's not pretty" or having scars you want to trace with your fingers or being sad or being angry or being lanky and tall and creepy and torn all apart inside and standing you up while you have a sewing kit in your hand or being beautiful or bringing cookies to school or not letting you inside them or letting you inside their pants and then letting everyone else inside their pants or being as shy as you, or being pregnant or talking too much or talking to you as if you don't know what they mean and thinking they're so mature and pissing you off and pissing you off and making you want to off yourself so many times it doesn't even spark a reaction in you anymore and making you tired of
typing shit and wanting to speak or never shutting up about what you've never had or pillaging villages and raping your women or making stimulus package jokes or playing Rock Band or performing
cunnilingus on some bitch who doesn't care about her dyslexic daughter and throwing money at her and writing
poems about her saggy tits and not being here and not getting you an iPhone and... and... being stupid, monkey people who you hate with every fiber of your being and that's why you want them to love you.
Labels: oh not again with this shit.
our darkest secrets and then I woke up.
he stroked my hair in my dream and he told me it was greasy. we kissed a little and then I gave him my chocolatey drink and then he gave me a hug. No wait that really happened. Except the kissing part. And I wanted to cry. I said "free drinks get me hugs. yay." in the most sarcastic, underhanded, quiet and shyest way possible and then I died a little inside because I couldn't tell him how I love him so much I want to punch him in the eye. I walked away and I started to cry. He told me to take a sip first before he took it and I did. I heard in the 8th grade that drinking from the same can as someone was essentially making out with them. It briefly came to mind, but I don't even know what he meant by that. I bet after I left he was just drinking my stupid free milk-shit with his calm look on his face. He probably just turned around and gave it no thought. While I sprayed Mountain Dew all over my hand. I wanted to suck your dick and rip it off all at the same time. And though it may seem like a fairly normal fantasy, know I'd never go down on someone unless they paid me in illustrated lilies first. While I was out spying for the Tower Lumberjack (and now I'm imagining something and it would be nice if someone went all Nancy Drew on me to understand that last statement; I'd gladly give you my MySpace password and it has to do with a half-Asian kid and a mermaid) you were out offing yourself and I want really badly to reach out and touch the purple scars on your skin. You're creepy and lanky now and you look at the world with these "I'm better than you" eyes. You don't trust shit.You don't have fever. You'll never end up watching Nick & Norah with me and you'll never become my accomplice for all things unholy like stalking the most beautiful creature on Earth. And you'll never become gay and I'll never be able to take rejection. What kind of a bitch to myself would I be if I did? My mouth is still dry with the taste of that strawberry-flavored wet dream you had of your mother's best friend's hot 40-year-old sister. I'm scared of you fading away and you stalking away and never talking again. You never respond to my texts anymore. I tried on your jacket one time and I must say it was extremely comfortable. I'm listening to them right now and my iPod would be vibrating along with my soul if I weren't distracted talking about waves. My headphones are broken. I want to cry. I haven't cried in a while. I've just been angry a lot. My birthday is in 6 days. I don't know what to do. The blowjob offer still stands. My dear old grandma will be waiting for you like in Yes Man. Remember when we watched that? I drank Pomegranate Green Tea (which I'm drinking now) while the bitch slept at my house and you just talked to her all night. And I was just there why? She could have done that at her house. We didn't do anything except watch me cry and suck it up because I'm stupid and an asshole and an even bigger asshole to my self-esteem. If it had wrists it'd be cutting itself. I want to photoshop a tree branch onto your face. If I were any more pathetic I'd be really, really pathetic and if I had a quarter for every time someone told me I need to fuck off, I'd have just enough bus fare to get to Nebraska. Your eyes are hot. They'd recognize me if I ended up as Miss March. But my breasts are too weird and I am too ugly to be in anything. Guess I could have it worse, but you make it pretty bad. Like burning your popcorn in the microwave or killing your cat. You should really listen to more music. Man, the number of times you've made me cry could be square-rooted if I actually had taken the time to count. It could be anywhere from 1 to forever. I want a window to open in my brain. Maybe you won't seem so important after the hot air gets out. A bee stings my heart and my eye and your essence was in it's brain. Oh and FYI: the top of your hood is faded. I know we've "talked" about it but it pisses me off. This is all I could do but scream his fucking name at raccoons. Go fuck yourselves. I'm into that.
Labels: (man I really want him to read this.), it's one-sided, just one-sided.
Hi. I'm Angelica. I like Pokémon and complaining. I'm a youngster, but I freak out like a 42-year-old mother. This is just me worrying about getting into college.