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 Latest
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Diaryland |
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2002-12-10 - 10:30 a.m. I feel 8 lifetimes away from what I was just months ago and before that, who the fuck knows how far I was then. I think I kinda smiled when a girl was talking to me after class last night. She complimented me on the outfit, which consisted of my OLD SCHOOL CAZEL-esque frames, my elvis hair, my pink t-shirt that says "MAN CANDY" in cursive letters (hugging my sweet chub so snugly), my tiger striped sportscoat, navy blue pants and shiny sauconys. Yeah, I know, what the in the hell was she thinking?!?!? When I'm good, I question it, like it's some rare occurance. My mind thinks my body is acting weird and vice-versa. I'm afraid sometimes that when I'm having "Fun" that my "Fun" might too be loud and outlandish for the folks around me. I remember numerous occasions where I got excited and people told me to "Quiet down" or something to that effect and it's like someone beat the living fun right the hell out of me the moment after. FUN IS BAD I guess my mind would say in some simple way. I'm kinda figuring that this is a terrible way to feel. I wanna talk to someone so bad, I want to tell my folks all the shit that's been brewing in my head for so long, but maybe I'll get too loud, maybe I'll need to calm down. No one here charges 60 bucks an hour and has a cool couch for me to lay on. I do it to everyone else, I guess I bring them down, they just learn it from me I guess. Right now, my life is shit and I'm past due for a change, but I feel so out of control of everything, I don't even know how to tell you "what's up?"
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