nonsensical
Today i walked three miles with my keychain jangline in the pocket of my sweater. I wore flip flops and my feet have erupted with giant bubbles where the straps chafed them. But spring fever overtook us all so completely, we had no choice but to keep walking
I indulged in the gossip. I felt like a coward craven callow consuming this fresh morsel--no, this feast. this VORTEX of hatred and self indulgence that left me feeling like I had had too much pizza; that i was swollen with guilt and i could FEEL the rivulets of orange grease running under my skin, but i continued to sink my teeth in with gusto.
We in America, we youth, are so happy to solve our inconveniences with pills pills pills. You don't want to do your term paper so you get yourself diagnosed with ADD. You want to sleep so you take pills, lose weight, have better sex, stand up, but someone is dying of malaria, and they have no pills
I met a german girl when we were on a college tour, and she was so beautiful i think it was the moment i realized i'm probably bisexual. Anyway, we were seeing the darkroom and there was a revolving door we had to go through, and she was so utterly terrified of revolving doors that she hyperventilated. And with that, my attraction ended.
My ego is in the basement, because really...this is not alright. Just took a practice euro ap test. got a 1. last year...took a apush ap test...got a 5. Something is drastically wrong here.
Oh my, what a terrible free-write. I guess ego-crushage stifles creativity.
It's hard to come up with a metaphor about a furnace without sounding cliche. "He threw a log into the furnace of their love." "blah blah blah burned like a fiery furnace." I'm not sure if i'm cynical or a bad writer.
it's such a round, good word. Furnace. like Forness, my teacher's name. i love her. it's a good word. hearth home warm hot good
nothing nothing nothing is endless but it feels so so so that way. every second keeps ticking endlessly endlessly and it's so horrifying, that no matter how deeply you want to clutch the moment, never release it, hold on to it, the second hand will snap on ana on and on around that wheel. And then...someday...it will stop.
a noiseless patient spider is not what i am. I hurl and fling and crash gracelessly through tribulations and stress and sleepless days. I am not creating beauty. I am crunching for deadlines.
Oh, to be spinning a silken web in space, dancing a beautiful dance and creating something holy.
For now...I'm tired and lazy and guiltily munching on fritos.
i stared into space until all i could think about was "my schedule is a recipe for disaster."
not my thing. not at all. i said i can't run a mile i have asthma and he said 'well what are you going to do if you're getting chased by a dog? you can't say 'hey dog i have asthma don't chase me" and i said "I'd have to fight the dog because it's worse to have an asthma attack and THEN get mauled by a dog, which would be my only other option." Asshole.
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writing since 2011 · 16 entries · 14 days shown up
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raggedpanicpillsnowdogfurnacehearttearswakesummerdemandingcollegeconstanttestasthmablah