Sunday, October 28, 2012

Late Night Surprises w/ Dickheads



I mean... I honestly don't know Earl very well but it's still a coo picture of these foos. It's been a good birthday week. LKSAJDASLKDJASIWNDLKASNDKASDJSALKDJAPONWFLJN

xoxo bitches. 

Thursday, October 25, 2012

October 25th

It's 5:47 am and I have yet to sleep. I have class in 2 hours and I wish I wish I didn't. My head throbs. I have a test. But today is Rae's birthday. All has been well in my life. If only I could sleep.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Stupid Girl

All you vaginas stew. You stew in your own filth of narcissism. You stew in your pretty pictures and false sense of confidence. You're insecure and you're terrible at hiding it. Your face sucks. All of your faces. Your kindness reeks. Like fucking vermin. Face it, rats aren't kind and I can smell you fussing over other people's shit as well as your own. Stupid Girl, show us your ugly and I'll show you mine. My hurtsquad wants to take a shit on your pretty face.

Tags: IDIOT. UGLY 2012.

Nepotism

Lately. When I hear shoegaze shit in this fun weather I can't help but miss two of my favorite people: Dro and Andro. Ya boy Jordan and Andrey. Back when being stoned to the bone and listening to music and watching movies and going to spots were the highlight of our lives. Gotdamn. I don't even know how to make friends anymore. I don't even want to make friends anymore. Everyone is dull and I am now dull. Dull life because I am arrogant.
Ah I miss them..
MakDrey: "I miss us."

Monday, October 22, 2012

Shit

It's three forty one now and I am still up. 2 hours of sleep is good too.
But also I wish I was dead so I can instead sleep forever.

Sem One

It's one forty one am and my head is throbbing. I curled in bed nearly 2 hours ago so I can sleep well before my first day of semester one. My head throbs every night. It also throbs every time my day reaches a lull or nothingness. It's raining outside and I am thinking about the passed three years I just had. Maybe this is why my head pounds. (Nah I'm still sick as fuck). But goddamn really. When am I going to let go of all this? Everyone grows up.

Friday, October 19, 2012

Pear Ace

I listened to Little Garcon today and wished we could still fuck shit up together. Growing up is a tertible thing. My bro is so far away.

Growing up is a terrible thing.
What is this?

Happy

I want to record this before it passes. Today, I am happy. I could list all the reasons but I don't need to. I just need the world to know that right now. Happiness found me somehow and I am squirming in my own bed, giggling and hugging pillows (RIGHT?! DA FUQ). But it's happening and I am not sorry that it sounds gay.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Liferuiner

On the finer things in life. On the simpler things in life. On the contentment. Fuck it, I don't know anything. I wonder how much I'll have to drink to not to want to break shit anymore. Or I wonder how much I'll have to drink before I start breaking shit. If it were up to me, you'd be dead by now. Or me. Doesn't matter. I wish one of us was dead. On the good days, I hope it'd be you. On the bad days, I hope it'd be me. DOESN'T MATTER. May we rot in hell. But even in hell, I hope you don't find me.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Pester

It hasn't stopped bothering me yet. I'm a nice girl and all, I just don't have what it takes...
I don't have it in me? Aw fuck sakes I am horrible at everything.
Now I get the masculinity thing. Weird feeling.

Vingt-Et-Un

God has had his eye on me all year. He's known of my alcoholic aspirations and there was no way the middle of October would belong to me. Maybe he thought I would die of alcohol poisoning on the first day. Even after making a deal with the devil to forever be a scumbag, God just wasn't having it. So I lay in bed and sneeze and cough and eat without tasting my food. The most wasted I could get is chugging my Nyquil to pass the fuck out for the rest of the night. I start semester 1 on Monday, surprisingly. Which leaves me a few days to get the devils going and out of my system so I can keep focusing for a solid 11 month haul. If I ever feel better that is. Party Hardy to my 21 year old self. May my adulthood refuse to be dull. 

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Panic Routine

In the mornings I wake up an hour later than I plan for myself. Always late, always shaking, always pissed. I decline Ma's offer for breakfast. I rush to pull up my pants ten minutes before class starts, then I hurry out the door trying not to poke my eyes out with my sunglasses. If I'm lucky I'll have enough time to light a smoke while winding through the slow drivers. My legs will begin to shake on the gas pedal. I'll turn up my music to shout along and forget about the shakes. But it never works. By the time I find a parking spot, all my shit would be scattered all over my car floor. I gather them with the last drag of my smoke still between my lips, then stomp to class just before they do roll. I turn away from my instructors so I can unscrew the stud out of my lip because I forget to unscrew it at home. I put on my glasses. I cross my legs. I tap my extremities. Then my eight hours drag on.

Every day. This is me now. Every day.

After my eight hours in class fighting the sleepy bobhead and saying sarcastic shithead things to people, I come home to eat the nearest food item then open up my books to study hundreds of medical terms that I'll be tested on the next day. Dinner at 8. Lights out at 2. Try to find sleep for an hour. Then 3 hours later, my alarm goes off.

Snooze, repeat.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

The Third

I. 
The man at the gate told me that I've come to the wrong place. I shook my head and said, "That's not possible. I took a very long drive here." He looked at me from under his hat, with his hands folded together in front of him. "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," he said. "There isn't anything for you here."

Behind him, I looked passed to see the estate beyond the gates set ablaze. Flames towered over the roofs and a fat woman wearing a hat with a tropical bird made a run for the gate, screaming a horrible scream while the train of her floral dress was caught by a small fire, chasing her. 

"GILBERT!!!!" was the sound of her dreadful scream. She reached the gate and grabbed two bars, smiling at us calmly yet wild-eyed. As if the man was a fucking receptionist. "Has anyone seen Gilbert?" she asked steadying her voice. But she was failing. The shakes had her now and I knew she'll never sound pleasant again, if she ever had before. Her eyes were on us then up at the sky. "Oh Gilbert..." she wept quietly, her shoulders nodding. By now, you should know that I took a moment to contemplate shuffling back to my car and leaving behind this disorienting ordeal. But the man in the hat suddenly steps closer to the woman with his back facing me.

"Get back to the party," he said to her. "You're going to miss the party." Now his hands were folded together behind him. "Gilbert is inside with the rest. He's waiting for you."

She then suddenly stopped crying. Instantaneously, her eyes glazed with the reflection of the man's face and expression. The ugly man. Lines creased on top of another. White stubbles of hair covered most of his face and his white brows pointed in all directions. Strands pointed toward the estate, the woman, the gate, and me. This very ugly man. I felt my own teeth fall out of my mouth when I saw the yellow and purple rotted things in his mouth. Dots of saliva formed at the corners and decorated his face sodden and perverse. I couldn't leave. 

The flames on the woman's train had the skirt of her dress now. She didn't make a sound apart from the grinding of her teeth, still fixed on the ugly man. "Run on back in," he said. "And your dress," he paused and stroked her index finger that still clutched on the metal bar. "...looks tasteful on you now."

Almost immediately, she turned around and ran screaming Gilbert.

... 

Friday, October 5, 2012

deadpan class

Maybe being a nurse won't be so bad. I really enjoy the irony. I really enjoy how puzzled it makes people. I really enjoy being eternally a hedonistic shithead.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Orange

Hi.
Today was my first day of class and I didn't thnk I would hate it as much as I did. The dress code pissed me off, but I can live with that. No metal on my face? FINE. No shorts? FINE. No smelling like motherfucking cigarettes or my favorite perfume? FINE. JUST FINE ALRIGHT. The medical field is a competitive little fucker. I don't know what I'm getting myself into but I'm going to do it anyway. My instructor asked us what OUR motivations are. I said I LIKE TO PROVE WRONG YA'LL BITCHES WHO DOUBT ME. She furrowed her eyebrows, and I laughed in my seat. I didn't feel like making friends so I didn't. I just talked like a shithead to people. These fucks can't eat me alive though. They're not allowed. Because I'm better than God. That's right, I said it. I'm better than God. 
Time to make friends with a thousand flashcards. 
Goodbye. 

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)