so yeah. so, maybe im psychotic. maybe thats it. it could be it. probably it. FUCK IT! alright. so yeah, he's ONLY my friend.
I wrote this in my philosophy class the other day. Just pondering life and it's meaning. Dealing with my depression and such. Psychotic kind of thoughts and shit.
Caffeine, Nicotine, and Caffeine.
Black shirt, White shirt, Black shirt.
Everyday is the same.
Like the sun rising and falling.
Hotwired like my Volvo;
I've forgotten how to feel.
I've forgotten how to peel,
The layers back.
I am a 19 year old female going to college in Utah. For the past couple of years I have been having feelings for other women. Especially a basketball coach I once had who is 4 years older then me. I thought these feelings would go away and that it was just a phase. But my feelings haven't gone away and the feelings are even stronger now. I have moved away from her thinking that it would help me but it hasn't.
I wonder if Bush will put a spin on St. Patricks day. If you go out and get drunk and celebrate your Irish heritage, you're supporting the terrorists.
Did I get your attention? Hehehehe. Well good, thats what I meant to do. So I got three voicemails from my ex, and an email. Fun fun fun. She doesn't want to let go. ::frowns:: I would like to move on. Yah, the world hates me more often than not. I think my chemistry teacher is possessed by the devil AND his family. Heres part of the conversation:
Some girl in class: Mr. Virzi, do you want this? (holds up worksheet)
The power of mitts on a sting.
The only thing more depressing than opening your email account and having 0 messages is opening your second account and having 0 messages there, too.
Okay, I know... actually lots of things are more depressing. But this morning that one takes the cake.
Should I have just Kissed him?
Well, my predicament over what to do about the new guy who liked me and the old one who liked me again is over. New things happened, I decided, and I am very happy with my decision.
A week ago, I went to a play with some friends and the old guy drove. I sat next to him in the front seat and we flirted the whole time. When we got back, everyone else went to bed and we went back to his place to watch a movie version of the play we had seen. We ended up getting closer and closer, laughing more and more, and I finally brought up what happened back in January. It was awkward at first, but we talked about it freely and even a little jokingly, and I got some satisfying answers. It was as if he undid everything that had happened, as if he erased all of the bad feelings I had back then. He even said that the reason his relationship didn't work out was because he thought about me too much, and that he had prayed and considered the matter a lot and determined that he made a mistake when he said that we would make better friends than boyfriends. I was skeptical, but I started believing him the more he talked. I mean, why not believe something so positive? So then we started making out for a while, and despite our efforts to the contrary ("We need to set an example," "We're higher species; we can control ourselves.") we ended up doing a bit more. By the morning, as we saw the sun rise, he was calling me his boyfriend. So that's how that happened.
The view zooms in onto me as I am now, vulnerable but bursting with potential. I am building an armada of accepting friends with whom I can take on the entie city. My gayness becomes less and less ignorable, but my confidence grows as I gain success in shows. Soon no-one can cut me down by spewing, "Fag!" because I am too strong. Too strong, too smart, too involved...and high school, the horror which everyone must crawl out from, instead launches me into fame and fortune. And meaningless sex...black-haired men and sculpted adonises weave in and out between my legs as I rise through my career...
Sitting in rows thinking about womens bodies drifting in and out. Room is full of god fearing christians.
"We've got to save our youth. They are lost. That MTV has had a plan for their lives since they were born. WE have a plan for our childeren. To make them and army for the lord. Aquire the Fire. Your childeren will come back a new. There is hope. We will turn their lives arround from the sins the world presses on them"
Just remember that I don't mean to be offensive... but most gay people I know are jerkoffs who don't pull a fraction of their weight... not to mention pot-heads and real asses cuz they use the excuse that "I'm gay" to get out of petty things.
Also, if you are taking it offensively then you are taking the word out of context in the frist place, and essencially making yourself a hypocrate. The word "gay" means happy. It is taken to mean other things also, but those are not the true meaning of the word. you took it to mean stupid in refferance to homosexuality. Both contexts are commonly used, but not always simultaneously... I'm sure it wasn't meant that way here.
I am not a homophobic, but I have yet to meet a homosexual guy that doesn't piss me off. Also, if you take the term "gay" to be offensive, then you are one of the few homosexual people who do. Besides, hederosexual people don't mind being called "straight"... do you want us to call you curvy? Or do you wan't to call us sad?
about the poem... I loved it. as a song it doesn't flow... but it seems to tell the story of one's life... mine for one.
Alright. So I broke up with this chick I was seeing right? Cause she was violent and totally not good for my mental health (I know what mental health?). That was like oh a month ago and now she keeps calling me and "accidentally" bumping into me all the time at random places. So what the hell do I do??? A part of me wants to give in and say "Sure hun I would love to date you again. " and another part of me says "Screw that! You hurt me big time and you expect me to give in! I think NOT." I have no clue what I am going to do.