February 2007

The Archives

  • 02.27.07
    Tried to save myself… Ennui | (0)

    I feel like my intelligence is slipping away. I don’t find myself tactful…or that I have anything interesting to say.

    It’s been so damn long since I’ve read a novel.

    I stopped exercising months ago.

    I’m going to try and stop this trend.

    But is it inevitable?

    The plain old truth is that I just don’t care about any of the things that should be important. All I feel is vaguely lonely and like I’m trying to recapture a bygone era…the time when Kelly lived at her mom’s and all these cool things seemed to happen.

    I guess my universe just seems rather dull.

  • 02.26.07
    okay. Ennui | (0)

    Just so we’re clear, the idea of Adrian dating someone else…especially a girl, fills me with an unreasoning rage.

    Well…more like the rage that makes me listen to the Prototypes until my ears bleed.

    But to message him would just be a mistake.

    Stop reading my blog, Adrian.

    You don’t fucking deserve to know that I’m in pain.

    You don’t deserve to move on.

    You don’t deserve new victims.

    You don’t deserve anything.

  • 02.22.07
    Rampage! Ennui | (1)

    I woke up today, met Rosemary, went to class, and there was the panel in our human sexuality class. It was the women’s panel that day, so all these girls got up there and answered all the questions that people in the class asked. Most of them were retarded questions asked by the obnoxious group of black guys in the back, but on the whole, it was rather interesting. I’m thinking of volunteering for the gay/lesbian/bisexual panel…I want to, but I would have to be like “no questions from the back row.” I should email her.

    Okay, email sent.

    After that I drove home and went inside…my drunken uncle John was there, and I said hi to him. I went into my room, and saw the card Patrick had sent me sitting on my keyboard (my grandma puts all my mail there). Right as I was opening it, I heard a soft knock at my door, and it was my grandma. “John’s on a rampage today…he’s going crazy…I’m going to go in my room.”

    Um.

    What do you say to that? I had stuff to do today, so I got all my clothes together to be washed. “Rampage. Rampage? What crap,” I mumbled to myself, and went out there with my thing of clothes. I went into the garage and was measuring out the detergent when I hear *thump* *thump* *thump* (door opens) John’s voice: “You need to get out of my house!” and the automatic garage door starts churning. “Oh…it’s you,” he says. I went back into my room and even though I’m hella hungry, I am SO not going out there again.

    Well, maybe when I’m much hungrier.