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| my grandmother died today. | | |
| I think about this blog and about how one day I'm going to document my entire life and publish it. Like, write a book or something. But this blog is a lawsuit waiting to happen I guess. I imagine a lot of people would get offended. Even i f there isn't that much offensive amterial contained in this blog, there are several little notes that no one but I understand that are extreemyl offensive. It's my blog with my own secret codes. I want to have a little girl and write her a book and give it to her on her 16th birthday. I wonder what she'll be like and if she'll like me. I wonder if she'll be more like me than her father. I want her to be like me-- but only the good parts. I want her to be beautiful and never be obese. I want her to be outgoing. Mostly, I want her to never be afraid of anything. Never fear. No fear. I know that if she is truly like this I will hate my life for a little while. But it'll be worth it. I don't know how I got on that tangent. I started talking about writing a book. I think I should. But I think that if it didn't sell that I would get my feelings hurt. I wondr if it would totally fuck my self esteem. Like my life was meaningless and not worth reading about. Cause I don't think that I'd be able to write fiction. It would all be the truth. Down to the last word. It would be the truth that no one else wanted to know and the truth that I never wanted to realize. Cause when these fingers fly over these keys, sometimes I'm surprised at what comes out. But I'm even more surprised that as surprised as I am, I'm really not. Not a lot anyways. Wow. That makes a lot of sense doesn't it? | | |
| sometimes i see other boys and my mind starts to wonder. not really what they'd be like- friendly, sweet, mean.. not that sort a thing. don't even wonder what they'll be like in bed. i just want a tall boy. someone that's a head taller than me instead of me being a head taller than him.. want someone to pick me up and spin me around in circles and duck his head down and me have to stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. what's wrong with me? why can't i ever just be happy with what i have? what i have is more than enough. | | |
| "i'm on the outside / i'm lookin in"
today was becky's 21st. and i don't really think it was a good one. i wish that she would be more selfish. one day she's gonna explode and it won't be pretty.. honestly- who the fuck really wants their own birthday cake smeared in their own goddam face? no one. that's who.
today mr charlie told me that i always had such a positive attitude. i wanted to die and roll on the floor laughing. conversation in my head:
"mr. charlie. i'm not positive. ever. about anything. i'm a mean, hateful, spiteful little girl who has a knack at playing at being a grown up. i spend so much time trying to be the person that i want everyone else to think i am that i don't even know my own fucking self anymore."
i'm happy. correction- the image of myself that i project is happy. but me, i don't know if i really am. i'm so easily shaken. one light breeze and it's like a house of cards. i'm doing wrong by tan. i really just need to let him go before he gets in any deeper. i've already let this go to far.
i said i'd never get about anyone again like i did chris. but i did. to tan. and we're at that point in our lives that we really could get married if we got it in our heads to. i shouldn't condemn him to such a life. i'll drain him. completely. i'm so fucking needy.
and i say this. and what i'm fixin to do is turn this monitor off and literally curl my body around his and try and get some sleep. i'll probably wake him up just so i can hear in his voice how much he wants me.
how do i fix this. this. what i really mean is-- how do i fix me?
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| new job at hattiesburg cycles. in the service department. i love it. i'm happy. it's a regular eight to five. thirty. that kinda sucks. didn't think i'd ever want to be an early riser. but i'm getting used to it. and i like it.
sometimes i still see old patterns fighting to emerge. i guess we are really all like onions. cause it's the same but not. i've added a layer on top to tamp it down a lil.
becky's birthday coming. i'm aggrievated about it a little, but it's okay.
thought i could write a post without mentioning chris. wrong. a few facebook messages. i think now if we ever run into each other again it'll be okay. a little awkward, but at least we'll both know it's okay to walk up to the other and say hey.
tan got a dog. a fucking pit. mix of alligator and tank. who the fuck has ever heard of that? i'm not pleased. i wanted a dog, but i wanted a little one. this dog will weigh around eighty fucking pounds when he's full grown. i like him now, but he's a puppy now. he's also been the source of more than one fight. it's amazing. like- this damn dog is a fucking trial. everything is so damn symbolic to me and the signs that've been thrown out lately haven't been that good. if tan and i ever had a child-- we would fight all the time over it. not good. this doesn't bode well.
i thought i was pregnant. i honest to god thought that this was it. the big one. turns out i'm not pregnant. and that's really really good. we don't need a baby. in a drunken drunked moment i almost convinced myself that i was kinda disappointed about not being knocked up. that thought dissipated as soon as sobriety stepped in.
i'm on an even keel. level. so far, this new job has been really really good for me. and i need more good things in my life. well hell, who doesn't. mom moved to missouri and took aiden. i miss him but most of the time i don't even notice that he's gone. i miss my mom.
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