April 2000

I feel pretty. Oh so pretty. I feel pretty and witty and gay.

For all-o-you musical buffs out there (and I know you're there... somewhere...) that was from West Side Story. It was not a happy musical. I am not a happy person. I lied, I do not feel pretty, witty, or even gay, for that matter right now. I feel disgusting, annoyed, depressed, sick, bitter, and terribly irritated, among other things. This is not a good week but I'M ON VACATION NOW AND YOU AREN'T!! PHBBBBT! There goes any energy that I may still have retained at this point in the day.

My fish died. I refuse to take it out of the tank that is so nauseatingly still sitting on my desk, my poor upturned fish lying on the tasteless blue gravel. So I'm just gonna sit here. Staring. Christ I have no life. It's like an f-ing Friday night and I'm staring at a dead fish. Excitement.

On a random note, I just found out the Shroud of Turin was found to be false and the little pieces of cross all these churches had and claimed to be a piece from the original Jesus-crucifix were pieced together and it made some other strange polygon. But, business as usual for now people, Happy Easter. What the hell do chocolate eggs have to do with Christianity anyway? I remember my Mom was afraid that our teeth would become all yellow and shitty so she bought plastic eggs and put coins inside of them. I think that's the reason my brother's the money sucking leech he is today.

If this e-ssay (well, we have stupid terms such as e-commerce and e-cams and shit, why the hell not?) seems unusually frank, explicit, dead, and otherwise unenjoyable to read, that's because I am right now unusually frank, explicit, dead, and otherwise unenjoyable.

BEFORE '[Your] horrid image doth unfix my hair.' -Shakespeare

AFTER 'Go drown in a lake of Diet Coke, fucker.' -some contemporary poet whose name I don't remember right now, get back to you later on that one

I talked to a bunch of 11-year-olds the other day about the word 'gay' since they kept calling each other 'fucking faggots' and 'gay.' So much for Asian modesty (these were Singaporean kids). And these were girls (not to say that girls are incapable of being hateful, but... dammit, all you politically correct people know what I mean). And they said that saying the word 'gay' doesn't necessarily refer to gay people. SO THEN WHAT THE HELL DOES IT REFER TO!?Arrrggghhh. And they say this is an intelligent country, bah! Even I was smarter and more rational than they were at 11. Christ. We're doomed to live in a world where you can say 'I have to go to the bathroom,' and sombody will interpret it as 'I want to hack you to pieces and feed your bloody organs to large dogs.'

Speaking of lovely thoughts, I just saw 'The Talented Mr. Ripley.' If you'll excuse me, I'd like to go throw up. Maybe the catalyst was Matt Damon bashing some guy to death with a boat oar and then wrapping his arms around him and lying there for hours, or the fact that when I got home my parents were like 'Start learning Italian, kids! We're going to Italy!' Good god. Hmmm, I say 'God's name in vain,' too much. Better stop lest 'he' comes down from the sky and smites me. Yes I am so pissed at this point I am aiming to offend.

The Pope is a dumbass. Yknow, why don't I just apologize for all the sins of the Catholic Church because it'd be just as helpful. I don't personally think that only words can make you part of the solution and not the problem. I can just see the Pope, residing in his palace, surrounded by expensive books, while the Aztecs turn in their graves. Representation of God on Earth' My ass is a better representation of 'God.' Did I mention altarboys?

Me and my friend Christina wanna start a club having to do with gay-ness and getting pissed with homophobia. The student council is predominantly Christian, AND, to have a club in this school, you need the approval of the student council. They're supposed to be voting on student reaction, but I personally think that the debate will encompass all of two words: damn fags.

As you can see, it's been a hard week. Maybwe next time I'll at least make an attempt to be happy, but until then... yeah. Note: I'm not usually like this, dammit! This is what happens when Mike + no sleep + bad grades + bad week =. So bye.

Soy un pepino amarillo verdoso.


Amnesty International
3618 Sacramento Street
San Francisco, California 94118





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