| | Kayleigh has been not only nonhostile, but friendly and familiar with me. It confuses me, very greatly. However, I've also seen that she still gets icily pissed off, and is still capable of severe hatred. Thus, if she wants to make jokes with me in Physics and keep Liza from hugging everyone in Tech Crew by sheer force of malice, so be it. I'll be her friend, in school. If she's upset about anything bigger than a hangnail, I'm going to tell Kira or refer her to a psychotherapist, and walk the fuck away. I don't need her darker, more vindictive elements in my life. I've seen firsthand how that ends, and I don't need the pain and guilt.
On a lighter element, my understanding of Duke Ellington's Satin Doll is much greater, considering I actually spent time practicing, and hopefully I can get the first eight bars to be vaguely smooth by next week. HA! Just kidding. But at least now I know what the hell I'm doing.
Alex is my most boring friend...*sighs* Yes, he has been confined to a wheelchair all of his life, which must have severely limited his social options, but I can predict exactly all his responses to any stimuli I offer in our conversations. Jesus. I'd think that he would have had some other friends, but I suppose that Brad can be kind of predictable too (though not nearly as much).
I spent last weekend at Erik's house, which was pretty cool. I even went to his church, so as to keep up pretenses and good graces with his parents. It's so fucking huge, it's insane. Anyway, I resolved myself not to have a fucking breakdown in the middle of the night whilst at his house, and I succeeded. Huzzah. Although I kind of ruined his upholstery (WAIT UNTIL YOU HAVE FINISHED THIS SENTENCE BEFORE YOU ASSUME YOU KNOW WHAT I DID, BITCH!) because, unbeknownst to any of us, Josaiah flushed some object down the toilet before I used it, resulting in a torrential flow of vaguely dismaying fluids all over the floor. Towels were neccessary. It was shocking and horrific. But it could have been worse, seeing as the bathroom is right next to the back of the TV.
I just wrote a huge fucking essay IN THIS VERY SPACE in which I ruminated on how much I need Erik, compared to how little he truly needs me, and then I realized that it was meandering and pathetic compared to my head last night. Whatever.
I've been painting pretty flowers in Tech. So pretty.
I have random Red Hot Chili Peppers songs in my head. Take a look, it's on display, for you...
I think that Beki would be surprised at the amount of lyrics I give to her with sad meanings. I don't think I would give her lyrics if they were all happy; they wouldn't be true. Even the stories I've written for her were sad. It's my root. The day that she finds me with nothing to lament or repent, she can be assured that the next night, I will cry myself to sleep. At least if I'm sad I can't get any lower. And at least when I'm at my lowest point, it's the easiest to pull me back up.
And sometimes I just want to hurt someone, and it's easy for me to see how to hurt her. I'm ashamed of it, but I suppose that's the point; I lash out to hurt her, and then I tell myself what a sick person I am, in order to further my black mood. I wrote Bek the lyrics to Death Cab For Cutie's Tiny Vessels about three weeks ago, in the hopes that she would be hurt. I'll probably give them to Beki when I next talk to her, depending on my mood. Just so I can feel worse about myself.
I can't think of anything else. I want to beat my wenches. Excruciatingly, lovingly. |
