3:18 p.m. | 2005-07-23
Just Tell Me There's No Love In There At All
I want one of those moments. The ones where you look at yourself in the mirror and see the white black-head-pore-clearer-thing on your nose and the green goop you've smeared on your face and you just can't help but laugh at yourself.
Because, I'm sorry, but this is ridiculous.
This rollercoaster of ups and downs and ups and downs, and it's daily people, it's getting so tiring. And people have no idea how to deal with me. Some days I'm up for anything, running around, napping, smiling, going to the movies. The very next day I'm not a depressed little lump in bed I'm just so unsatisfied that I don't know why.
There will be no details from last night. Needless to say that I probably shouldn't have done what I did, but I don't feel that bad about it in hindsight. I just wish it would have gone more as I had planned. But to be honest, it's the first time it went even slightly according to plan, and I like that.
So while yes, I'm rolling my eyes at myself in the mirror at the idiocy of myself (shaving my legs for a boy, giggling when he said I smelled nice), the idiocy of the world (him saying he's just not "ready for more"), and the idiocy of just about everything else around me.
Except for my newt. Because he's new, and sweet, and named Butch.