REPORT A PROBLEM
Itís a song by Madonna. I think I made it song of the day in either tenth or eleventh grade. I canít remember. It may even have been ninth grade, because those were the years I listened to mainstream radio a lot. My high school years. But at the end of senior year, I started listening to more obscure bands. In college, Iíve come to the conclusion, that I donít like bands. I like individual songs and even individual albums. Ten Thousand Fists by Disturbed is one of my favorites, along with Eat My Heart Out by the Dollyrots.
I hardly ever get bored. My boyfriend is the opposite. If he doesnít have something to constantly entertain him, he gets bored out of his mind. I can amuse myself by thinking of hilarious things that happened in the past. In my math class, I get so bored, but I can always amuse myself, so itís not really boredom. I feel like Iím sitting there idle, making stupid jokes about numbers and the Giant Seven. I feel like Iím wasting my time when Iím in that class, but I need it to graduate and move on to somewhere better.
Brave New World
I know itís the title of a book by Aldous Huxley. Iíll get around to reading the book eventually; I do have a summer reading list going, but because of the Internet, Iíve been reading less and less. That will hopefully change. Iím currently reading The Grapes of Wrath by Steinbeck, and Hitlerís Willing Executioners by some guy with a doctorate. The book was originally his thesis, and you can really tell, especially by the use of words like ďaxiomaticĒ and ďcognitive modelĒ. I can understand it, but it is a bit cerebral for me. Too smart.
Many songs that todayís rock bands come up with are all about breaking or being broken. Itís starting to become clichť. I hate being jaded by music, but I feel like I havenít heard anything really good or outstanding lately. It sounds to me like itís all the same song, just done in a slightly different way by each band. It really breaks my heart. I probably stated before that I donít like bands anymore. I like songs and I like albums. I do not worship musicians like I used to; not because I donít respect them as people.
Itís sung by Kelly Clarkson, yet written by Avril Lavigne. Lately it seems all Iím writing about is songs, but I usually start typing about the first thing that comes in my head when I hear the topic. Did I already mention that it seems like everyone is getting engaged or pregnant or married? Do these people seriously think about it, or do they believe in true love and all that happily ever after bullshit? I sure donít believe in it anymore. My idea of a good man is someone you can tolerate for the rest of eternity.
Breaking The Rules
Reminds me of yet another song, this one from an obscure scream band called KillWhitneyDead. The song is just over a minute long and is called ďIt Ainít Gonna Suck ItselfĒ. The lyrics of the song go, ďLetís fucking break, letís fucking break the law!Ē One of my boyfriendís favorite songs, and it used to be his ringtone. I donít like to break the rules. We have rules for a reason, and if the entire world did not obey the rules, we wouldnít really have a world. My idealistic mind is showing itself again; donít hate me.
Bring It On
It reminds me of WWE and RAW and ECW. I do not like any of them. Iím sorry, but I do not understand why some men (and women) are so attracted to this fake wrestling pseudo-sport. I especially dislike the damn divas. They are not pretty, they are all the same, and they have fake tits. So what is the attraction to wrestling? I do not see anything worth watching whatsoever. Take off your John Cena shirt and go watch the History Channel, where the past comes alive. Itís actually intelligent and makes a lot of sense.
I already wrote this entry. My computer crashed somehow, and the broken pieces of it are lying in my room. Right now Iím on my brotherís computer and typing this. I have had to backdate so much stuff itís not even funny. I hate having a computer in my room, yet I love it at the same time. I no longer write stuff out literally. I type it, which saves me the agony of looking at my messed up handwriting. Plus, when I write for a while, my hand gets very tiredÖ I really hate when that happens.
I donít particularly care for this color, but it is one of my best friendís favorites. She says she looks good in earth tones, and I have to agree. I donít know if I look good in brown. I know I donít have much of the color. I guess to make myself like brown, Iíll have to think of chocolate, which is one of the best things that is brown. It sounds like a five year old wrote this entry, but I am just not caring right now. I want to get my ass off the computer right now.
Thatís an excellent subject line. A friend of mine made me some brownies. This is a male friend, mind you. And I have to admit that I did not trust him enough at the time to eat any of those brownies. So I fed them to my brother. He didnít die, so I assume the brownies were good. I just didnít trust my friend enough. Anyone who knows me knows I have serious trust issues. Still donít fully trust my boyfriend and we have been dating over three years. He hasnít given me a reason not to trust him.
Burn It Up
A pyromaniac at my high school said that every day. For some reason, he had this obsession with bringing a Bic lighter to school and burning everything that is the color blue. He burned my book bag once. I smelled the smoke, whipped around, and thereís the pyro, holding the flame up to my book bag. Future serial killer in the making? Future arsonist? Or just fucked up kid with parental issues? I have yet to find out and hope I never will. Iíd rather just keep away, far away, where he cannot burn my favorite color.
ďItís better to burn out than to fade away.Ē I think some dead rock star said that. Probably Kurt Cobain, who is the most analogous to Elvis out of any rock star I am familiar with. I have a question. Who is Dimebag Darrell? Heís supposedly dead. Thatís all I know about him, except for that there are cult followings having to do with him. Itís probably some pop culture phenomenon I am once again too late to become part of, like Xanga and Myspace. I had a dream that Facebook burned out. I hope it comes true.
Itís happening now, and Iím trying not to be afraid. Paradise is burning all around us, and there is nothing I can really do about it. The most I can do is hold my head up and try to see through the smoke. Iím worried about going around in circles, and I even made an analogy. To leave paradise for greener pastures would be starting back at square one, to create an even bigger circleÖ another dynasty of pain and tragedy. I want to do this on my own, without any more false paradises, and only one God.
I think Dr. Phil used this phrase on one of his shows. Yes, I watch Dr. Phil. And Maury. I would watch Jerry Springer, too, but I donít know what time it comes on or what channel. Those are really the only shows I watch on TV: Maury, The Simpsons, Dr. Phil, and Family Guy. I hardly get to see Family Guy because it comes on during my dinner time. I really hate watching TV, but I do it when I need a mental break, or when I just get tired of staring at words on a page.
I had this little daydream one day about what I would do before my wedding. Most normal girls/women would have a bachelorette party. Not me. I only have one girl friend, and itís not much of a party. Maybe we could just go on a shopping spree or something. But when I got home that night before the wedding, I would burn all my old diaries and journals. Start completely afresh with my new husband, and write in new journals. Then after my husband died or I got divorced, Iíd burn everything all over again. Just a daydreamÖ
I donít have that problem. I like being inside. If I go out in the sun, I can sometimes get a really bad headache. It happens every time I go to the beach or to the lake. I hate it so much, but I guess I am ultra sensitive to light or something. My brotherís keyboard is really pissing me off right now. His entire desk arrangement is pissing me off. I cleaned his desk for him. Does he appreciate it? Probably not. Iím sorry, but when somethingís messy, I clean it. If I donít, I go crazy.
Itís a cool pattern to wear on clothes. I donít know what brought that into style. I keep thinking that it is some expression of solidarity with the soldiers in the Iraq War. Everyone (including me) fucking hates that war and wants it to be over. What I donít understand is why everyone hates Bush. How would any other president have handled September 11 and the events after it? How would Al Gore or John Kerry have handled it if they had been elected? How will the candidates for the 2008 election handle it? Iím just praying and hoping.
I love candy. I think every woman loves candy, and especially chocolate. Speaking of chocolate, I want some right now, but I am currently too jumpy for another jolt of caffeine and sugar. I donít think itís the best thing for me to have coffee in the morning (or any time) because all it does is make my blood pressure rise. I found a very interesting picture on the Internet last night. You say you hate school, but I donít think you really do. You canít hate it; not when there are hyper, stupid girls with big, bouncy tits.
A few days before Valentineís Day, he gave me a box of those Sweetheart candies. You know, the ones that have little messages on them. I hate the candy. I really do. That is one candy I just canít stand. They donít taste good, and they donít have the melt-in-your-mouth quality that chocolate has. With that candy, it is truly the thought that counts, and the words on all those little hearts. He really wanted me to be his girlfriend, but sadly I was taken. If I dated him, Iíd be starting back in Pallet Town all over.
Itís like that thing the Catholic Church does when they make someone a saint. They ďcanonizeĒ them. When I heard that word (I am a devout Catholic) I first thought of shooting saints from a cannon, straight into the highest level of heaven. It was funny. I think everyone thinks of that same image when they first hear the word canonize. The word canon is completely different from cannon however. I think canon means doing things within the rules. Fanfiction writers are talking about Harry Potter canon. I hate fanfiction so much. Itís just bad writing, plain and simple.
I know the opposite of this word is uncanny. I guess "canny" means questionable, or doubtful. I wanna be lazy right now and do not feel like getting a dictionary. I am still slightly pissed about my immaturity and insecurity, but I guess I will have to shove right through it. Go through it, not around it. We should not avoid our flaws, but face them head on. That is something I learned from my four semesters at a community college. Face your fucking fears and just do it. Never be afraid of anything. Try anything once, except suicide.
Canít Let You Go
I thought I would never be stupid enough to get into one of those relationships. You know, something that starts out so sweet and loving. He even says ďI love youĒ on the first date, in the first crumpled-paper note. With those innocuous words comes the start of verbal abuse. He takes you for granted three years down the road. You become his slave Ė for sex, for love, for any little favor he can think of. Itís not fair, and when you begin to see how it originated, you curse yourself for being that stupid woman.
Can I Have This?
Yes. You can have this. Thatís what Iíve been dying to say for three years and eight months. Yes, you can. By the way, I think thatís someoneís campaign slogan. I want to give it all up, but the risk is too great. I have wanted to give it up for so long, since 2005. I still canít. I still have to wait and see, and I am getting tired of those three annoying words: ďwait and seeĒ. What if I want it to happen now? What if Iím sick of waiting for all this time?
Can You Hear Me?
Cell phones. What is the sense of having one? What did everyone do before cell phones? I think we got along just fine without them, but now that we have them, we overuse them. We use them in public places, we use them in the car, we use them in the bathroomÖ itís ridiculous. The only people who should have cell phones are emergency service workers and CEOs. Also, whenever someone calls me from a cell phone, I can never hear them. They always break up and lose service. I hate saying ďcan you hear me?Ē
I am playing with my cat right now. The little bastard keeps annoying me when I am trying to ďwork.Ē I love my cat, donít get me wrong, but they are just not as friendly as dogs. They have softer fur, but they donít let you pet them and hold them for long. My cat hates humans, except when a human happens to be feeding him or playing with him. That is the only time he loves our hairless raceÖ miserable creature. I named my cat ďGutsĒ because his food looks like guts, and he also hates my guts.
Iím caught inside his heart, and I have lost the way out. Complications have overgrown, filling in every exit I thought I knew. There is no way out now, and Iím completely at his mercy forever. I do not want to get married. I am not mature enough to even find my way out of his heart, to break down the walls and burn the complications. I do not want ďcaughtĒ to turn into ďtrappedĒ and I do not want ďtrappedĒ to turn into ďcagedĒ. His heart is my web of indecision and we are caught in the center.
I have to tread carefully now. A wasteland lies ahead, and the most danger I will ever have to face is at hand. I am walking on a thin line, on eggshells, on pieces of broken glass. If I get through this field of land mines alive, I will be praising God eternally. I have to take this difficulty just one step at a time, watching where I step. I donít know how many steps are in the progression, but I will be able to get through them. Despite the danger, I know Iíll be able to face this.
Center of the Sun
Someday, we will be able to travel to the center of the sun, or the center of any other planetÖ maybe even the center of Earth. I think that if we got there, the whole world would fall apart. Or it would be like in this fantasy novel I read. In the center of the earth was a huge dragon. The earth was like an egg holding the dragon as it grew, and once the dragon grew up, it would break out of the earth and destroy it. Cool plot idea, but unfit for real life.
Change of Heart
I hope I donít change my major. If I do, Iíll be in school even longer than I had intended. Donít get me wrong, I love school. Itís just that I donít want to make the wrong choice. Thatís one of my little fears about starting at university this coming fall. What if I grow to hate the major I picked? What if I have professors that make me lose inspiration? I know theyíre just bad what ifís, but I would hate to turn around and start all over again. What a waste of time and moneyÖ
I do not particularly care for writing checks. And something really annoying is when, in this day and age when everyone has a credit card, you see someone at the checkout in a supermarket writing a check and taking forever. These individuals who insist on writing checks are usually over the age of fifty, or they have forgotten their credit card at home. When the credit card machine breaks, nobody has cash on hand, so everyone writes checksÖ and it takes even longer because they have all forgotten how. We live in a crazy, fucked up technological world, dude.
Who doesnít like cheese? Out of all the different varieties and ďbreedsĒ, if you will, there has to be something for everyone. My boyfriend likes that grated cheese you can put in soup or salad or on top of pasta. He can literally eat an entire cylinder of it in one day. If thatís not obsession, I donít know what is. But I said that I would not talk about my boyfriend because everyone else does. At least Iím not saying the fact that he can eat a whole container of cheese is ďamazing.Ē Boys are not ďamazingĒ creatures.
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