[she rarely flies anymore]
since i've given up on sleep... i'll write. thoughts.
i broke a fucking nail tonight.
the lakers won. and i lost... my voice. [umm?]
i've had a headache since august.
the only people that call me are doctors.
i find myself very much not impressed with anything anymore.
'i find myself' is obsolete.
i'm nostalgic of a life i never had.
i think i swear a lot. not too much, but i notice it more now. fuck it.
suge enjoys human flesh, quesadillas, and dum dums. he eats constantly.
i make some bomb ass muffins.
money in the mail on my way is awesome.
afi. really bad.
on the other hand the new ed gein is amazing. thanks jimmy.
i really miss sitting on the floor in shaun's room listening to khanate and reciting our million inside jokes over and over... and the way he smiled at me. genuine.
i'm going to have a dance party in a couple weeks when i figure out how to make virgin martinis.
i was mia wallace for halloween.
i'm terrified of dying, but i want to die every second... is that like.. overcoming your fear of heights?
food network is fucking awesome.
i have a friend with really good taste in movies and it was nice when he would come over and watch them with me.
why am i fascinated with opium and heroin?
i've never been looked at the way tom used to look at me.
i used to be intelligent.
incline is when you're standing at the bottom of a hill and it goes up...
symbolism is often standing right behind me.
my toe is still broken and i have the worst bruise i have ever seen on anything. some shades of purple and yellow i have never laid eyes upon.
i like that suge has picked a certain pile of papers next to me to sleep on while i sit here like an ass all night. if i were a cat i'd sleep there.
i vomit more than i used to. some people call it unhealthy. i like to call it excersize.
pity is unsmart.
i forgot how much i missed doing nothing and free money.
shifting is suck. and stop lights in the middle of 119 are suck, also.
this is real - i get nauseous whenever i see blonde girls now and i dyed my hair very dark... i wonder if this allergy is permanent.
i think i'm going snowboarding with casey.
fourty year old women who get trashed are hideous.
i'm sick of dreaming about you with every single female on the planet.
joe preston and stePHen o'malley want to be here playing me a tune.
i also dream about shaun coming back to life every night. every night.
i want to be a photographer. no... seriously.
dear skip, if i had a machine that made us both forget that we met, there would be nothing on earth that could stop me from using it. i hope you get on with your life in nashville. good luck in the dirty south. i've meant things less.
my future flashes in front of me eighty times a day and it's always different. i watch my past like i'm at the end of a hose sucking through the last few months. it's kind of like a docu-drama.
choking down medicine eight hundred times a day makes me wonder what would happen if i didn't.
i used to use dove shampoo and conditioner, but now i use garnier fructise, long and strong. go to the grocery store and smell me.
i am thouroughly annoyed with aol instant messenger conversations with people i haven't seen in a year or more.
i cried when george bush became president again last year. can we have an evaluation of the past year and do a re-match or something?
the best thing i purchased this year were my g-unit boots. hands down.
the best day i had this year was my birthday.
someone send maynard some money. he got robbed.
i have obscene crushes on jason lee, jason schwartzman, and andree 3000.
i'm going to see bright eyes, minus the bear, and planes mistaken for stars all in the same month.
i get anxiety buying gas.
my mail is in my mailbox and it should be here. if someone wants to forward me my mail that would be sweet.
i also want my down-alternative comforter.
office utensils turn me on.
damn, i like to dance.
nothing could be better than falling asleep right now, but i'm not even sort of tired.
sunsets are cooler here.
throneswonderful.
i fucking forgot to call joe back.
i believed in god for a minute last week. it was spectacular. i wish i had the capacity for religion. it must be so calming. wait capacity? lack.
damn, i'm bleak.
if i could stand or sit in a shower for an entire day, i would. hot water falling on me is my favorite thing. such an amazing feeling.
fuck you, butterscotch is great.
what's with all this make-up i've been wearing lately? for no one...
the last good meal i had in a restaurant was the last time i went to the mall with tom and we had this really fake productive conversation.
no wait.. there was some good thai in vegas.
um... i was in vegas for two weeks?
i wish i didn't spend so much money on make up for a dionysian affair.
when i think about how much i miss my appartment, i just remember that the floors were like sand paper and it grosses me out.
i said something pretty funny a couple weeks ago... and i can't remember what it was. damn.
when you cover nirvana, i love you.
ici.
some thing just don't exist: truely good people, normality, permanent happiness, and vegan ricotta cheese.
i get chills when memories happen to me. am i more sensitive to the past than everyone else?
owned.com would've been a better comment to my last post that i deleted, by the way. get original.
i refuse to believe that depression is a disease. i would start a revolution or something, but i'm too busy having: feelings of sadness, irritability, or tension, decreased interest or pleasure in usual activities or hobbies, loss of energy, feeling tired despite lack of activity, a change in appetite, with significant weight loss or weight gain, a change in sleeping patterns, such as difficulty sleeping, waking up early in the morning, or sleeping too much, restlessness or feeling slowed down, decreased ability to concentrate or make decisions, feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, and guilty thoughts of suicide or death.
aaron ferenc, i miss you.
the only thing wrong with cracking your knuckles, back, neck or anything else is that it doesn't really feel better afterwards.
pet peeves are just justification someone's faultless idiosyncrasies.
sometimes i feel more intelligent when i put words together like that.
infomercials are pretty sweet.
- posted by angela @ 5:41 AM