Wednesday, September 28, 2011
SINNER
I can't be friends with you if you're going to be that attractive. Get the fuck out of here...
"Perhaps fuck off might be too kind"
Seeing things at a different light, different angle, different place... and finding something else. I love this.
Deceptive
Sometimes my mind begins to dull itself when I'm sitting in my English class. Sometimes I make myself play roles that I habitually and normally wouldn't do.
Today, I made myself seem like the beaming perfectionist with a slight case of OCD and face Tourette's. I would find a slightly awkward seat (i.e. right next to someone when there are a billion other open seats or the very front, poking the teacher with my winning smile and folded hands.) Then I'd start taking all my things out of my bag and setting them on the table in an organized manner. I set them in accordance to size and object category. Then I'd keep rearranging, long enough to make myself seem like I have a slight case of OCD but brief enough that it seems like I could be satisfied with anything. I'd then make myself sit upright, straight as a pole, and I'd hold my hands together in front of me. Then I'd make a surprised O face and quickly go back into my bag to take out my glasses. I'd put them on carefully and curiously, as if that was the very first moment I'd ever worn the glasses. Once the glasses are perfectly on my face, I'd grin the biggest grin to myself and fold my hands in front of me again. As class starts, I'd start taking notes and crossing and uncrossing my legs. I'd tap my pen, click and unclick it, set it down, pick it up, bite on the end, then continue to place it on top of my lip, below my nose. Then I'd start rearranging my things again on the table. Biggest notebook on the bottom, text book atop that, then my planner as the cherry. Then I'd scatter them, rearrange them, scatter, then resume to fiddling with my pen. I'd clip and unclip my hair while scrunching up my face. I'd make myself breathe at different pace every few minutes. Some minutes I allow an airy and steady breathing, some minutes I allow short, panicky breaths. Sometimes I'd say something to myself and purposely spit a little so that it lands on the table and I get to jump at the chance to immediately wipe it off. Mostly, this role receives a lot of blank or questioning faces. On a good day, I receive an even stranger behavior from someone in response. It's like a common interest, weirdo for weirdo.
But then there are other days when I make myself seem like the slack-off stoner, lacking in sleep and a back brace. I'd sit anywhere, according to a random choice, slump myself on the seat, shoulders drooping and my face collapsing. Either from my seemingly blatant lack of sleep or because there's a chance I could be high in the sky. But I never am, not in that class. I'd purposely make my handwriting big and nasty and loud. I'd organize nothing, take nothing out, and use my flagrant disregard to not pay any attention to the instructor. To the point of inappropriateness and on the verge of either silently hanging myself, silently shooting everyone in the face, or merely falling asleep. For the most part, everyone in the class tries to ignore this role. But then again, everyone always tries to ignore the slack. Pay no mind to the slack. Faceless slack with nothing to say to anyone.
Some bight lit days, I allow myself to seem like the overly friendly neighbor who's also the active and willing class participant. I'd go out of my way to talk to everyone and try to say their names at the end of every sentence to make clear that I'm personally and directly speaking to them. I'd make witty remarks that generally get giggles out of people. People like this role. People like small talk. People like to laugh together at smalls things and turn that into some common interest, ice-breaking, light chemistry. It gives off the sign that you don't bite. And people don't like when you bite. You're not weird enough to laugh at in their head, you're not alienated enough to alienate some more. This role makes the class go 'round.
Other in-between character would be: the Know It All. I purposely make myself use words that aren't part of our everyday vocabulary. I'd make analytically comments that continuously lead to more 10 dollar sentences. I'd make a comment on everything and try to stretch my descriptions. I'd elaborate the shit out of any comment, any topic, any idea to the point of arrogance and smugness. I tinker with my glasses a lot, push it up my face, push it down. I'd use a deeper tone of voice and enunciate every word. This role makes me scoff to myself when I sense that what someone said was obviously ridiculous. It's combative almost It's asking for a fight. But this role challenges other students. It challenges your peers. If not challenge, then it'd make them passively conform to anything anyone ever says. This role is tiring. But it feels good to be the asshole sometimes.
I don't know why I targeted my English class to do this, but I did. I refuse to think about the same tedious thoughts and topics in that class, so I entertain myself. It's become kind of an experiment to me. Except it's kind of effortless. I don't need to try to be that different, it just comes out naturally once I plant the idea of a role in my head. I get a kick out of people's reactions. It gives me light to how other people feel in the class. I don't know how often I've stepped foot in that class as just myself, but I like the way I've been doing it. It's the only way things make sense for me in that class. I'm just a fucker though. Just fucking around.
Today, I made myself seem like the beaming perfectionist with a slight case of OCD and face Tourette's. I would find a slightly awkward seat (i.e. right next to someone when there are a billion other open seats or the very front, poking the teacher with my winning smile and folded hands.) Then I'd start taking all my things out of my bag and setting them on the table in an organized manner. I set them in accordance to size and object category. Then I'd keep rearranging, long enough to make myself seem like I have a slight case of OCD but brief enough that it seems like I could be satisfied with anything. I'd then make myself sit upright, straight as a pole, and I'd hold my hands together in front of me. Then I'd make a surprised O face and quickly go back into my bag to take out my glasses. I'd put them on carefully and curiously, as if that was the very first moment I'd ever worn the glasses. Once the glasses are perfectly on my face, I'd grin the biggest grin to myself and fold my hands in front of me again. As class starts, I'd start taking notes and crossing and uncrossing my legs. I'd tap my pen, click and unclick it, set it down, pick it up, bite on the end, then continue to place it on top of my lip, below my nose. Then I'd start rearranging my things again on the table. Biggest notebook on the bottom, text book atop that, then my planner as the cherry. Then I'd scatter them, rearrange them, scatter, then resume to fiddling with my pen. I'd clip and unclip my hair while scrunching up my face. I'd make myself breathe at different pace every few minutes. Some minutes I allow an airy and steady breathing, some minutes I allow short, panicky breaths. Sometimes I'd say something to myself and purposely spit a little so that it lands on the table and I get to jump at the chance to immediately wipe it off. Mostly, this role receives a lot of blank or questioning faces. On a good day, I receive an even stranger behavior from someone in response. It's like a common interest, weirdo for weirdo.
But then there are other days when I make myself seem like the slack-off stoner, lacking in sleep and a back brace. I'd sit anywhere, according to a random choice, slump myself on the seat, shoulders drooping and my face collapsing. Either from my seemingly blatant lack of sleep or because there's a chance I could be high in the sky. But I never am, not in that class. I'd purposely make my handwriting big and nasty and loud. I'd organize nothing, take nothing out, and use my flagrant disregard to not pay any attention to the instructor. To the point of inappropriateness and on the verge of either silently hanging myself, silently shooting everyone in the face, or merely falling asleep. For the most part, everyone in the class tries to ignore this role. But then again, everyone always tries to ignore the slack. Pay no mind to the slack. Faceless slack with nothing to say to anyone.
Some bight lit days, I allow myself to seem like the overly friendly neighbor who's also the active and willing class participant. I'd go out of my way to talk to everyone and try to say their names at the end of every sentence to make clear that I'm personally and directly speaking to them. I'd make witty remarks that generally get giggles out of people. People like this role. People like small talk. People like to laugh together at smalls things and turn that into some common interest, ice-breaking, light chemistry. It gives off the sign that you don't bite. And people don't like when you bite. You're not weird enough to laugh at in their head, you're not alienated enough to alienate some more. This role makes the class go 'round.
Other in-between character would be: the Know It All. I purposely make myself use words that aren't part of our everyday vocabulary. I'd make analytically comments that continuously lead to more 10 dollar sentences. I'd make a comment on everything and try to stretch my descriptions. I'd elaborate the shit out of any comment, any topic, any idea to the point of arrogance and smugness. I tinker with my glasses a lot, push it up my face, push it down. I'd use a deeper tone of voice and enunciate every word. This role makes me scoff to myself when I sense that what someone said was obviously ridiculous. It's combative almost It's asking for a fight. But this role challenges other students. It challenges your peers. If not challenge, then it'd make them passively conform to anything anyone ever says. This role is tiring. But it feels good to be the asshole sometimes.
I don't know why I targeted my English class to do this, but I did. I refuse to think about the same tedious thoughts and topics in that class, so I entertain myself. It's become kind of an experiment to me. Except it's kind of effortless. I don't need to try to be that different, it just comes out naturally once I plant the idea of a role in my head. I get a kick out of people's reactions. It gives me light to how other people feel in the class. I don't know how often I've stepped foot in that class as just myself, but I like the way I've been doing it. It's the only way things make sense for me in that class. I'm just a fucker though. Just fucking around.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Back to reality~
OHP THERE GOES GRAVITY.
I might have been in space for too long now. Months on. Today felt like my first day on Earth again. It was really unsettling and unexpected. I thought about things that made me angry. I nearly walked out of my own house. But then the heat from my house started to let out. Then I smiled regretfully at the things that went awry. But now I'm feeling alright and I'm glad I'm here again.
The sun gods really like me lately.
The sun gods really like me lately.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
An Ip Dip Dog Shit Rock and Roll
"When push comes to shove..." - Mikal's logic always makes me drool.
Earlier, Mikal, Yordie, and I went to Stivers with our nets to catch some pollywogs and crawdads. We were going to make crawsagna with our crawdads. Lasagna with lots of crawdads. Then on that warm, still-summer night, we did one for Trixie and biked around neighborhoods. Makcrackin' and Dro; some real buddies.
Then I received something from the sun gods. And then I remembered to feel happy again.
So it's been a really good day.
Sometimes, I should just stop bitching.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Aches in the Head
I remember the first time I had ever felt this kind of pain in my head. It's like a hole. Or a crack. Or maybe a really deep and prominent dent. All I know is that the big, big thought of money is what causes this ache.
Mo money, mo problems.
I just want to live in the forest. Some woodsy place where I grow my own food, grow my own weed, and own a canoe. Find someone to live with that won't make me want to murder either of us. I'd live a life that doesn't revolve around money.
Either that or I want to be rich as fucking fuck.
First world problems.
Mo money, mo problems.
I just want to live in the forest. Some woodsy place where I grow my own food, grow my own weed, and own a canoe. Find someone to live with that won't make me want to murder either of us. I'd live a life that doesn't revolve around money.
Either that or I want to be rich as fucking fuck.
First world problems.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Maybe if I eat plants and drink water...
...my life will turn around.
If I drink water regularly instead of sodas and if I eat greens instead of smoking them, I could probably wake up one day and not wish that I existed as a rock. Or a dog. Instead of being a dumbass human. Maybe I want to be a tree. Strong and tall, blowing in the wind.
Well, as long as I don't get pregnant, then I'll probably be alright and shit~
Well, as long as I don't get pregnant, then I'll probably be alright and shit~
Quitters
Should I be ashamed of our brevity?
I swear, I could have loved you forever.
I swear. I could have.
I swear, I could have loved you forever.
I swear. I could have.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
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