(no subject)

[phthalombrage]

I guess I like to dance, but I don't like to talk about it. Everything was easier when I was little, except turning on the sink.
Stereotypes. Mark loves Sophie B. Hawkins.
Oh, today was the Superbowl. I didn't care. I wonder what the commercials were like, and if Mrs. Johnston enjoyed them. My mom
got all excited cos she's from Boston. It scared me. Short sentences. Weekends are tough. I like to sew.
Pain is good.
What a meager existence has been whittled away.
I communicated with the raccoons. They skittered around on the roof. If they break through the ceiling, I'm going to smack myself into the wall repeatedly in frustration. Then I'll run away.
I got like 12 hours of sleep and remembered my dream. Rare, now. First a playground McDonalds. The Carstairs are always on playgrounds. Then somebody killed a girl in the alley like the one outside Flex. Three screams. A parlor scene. My mom was questioning. Looking to the corner between ceiling and wall. Ancient gold wallpaper. I went outside with a big silver sword. I cut this guy's right shoulder down to the middle of his chest, hoped he died, and met his complice. I think I dropped the sword. I didn't hear it fall. I was scared because I had used it. I don't remember what he looked like. I had a lot of thoughts... Later in the dream I was like, hey ,I cut through his ribcage and collarbone and felt no resistance. No blood. Hmm. The accomplice had a dagger. My sword was bigger but I was afraid. I never saw the dead girl, but I wanted to. Rag doll in a dumpster and a fire escape. The cars passed and Mr. dagger was confused and angry. I think I hit him. Somehow magically I got on a bike and left the entrance of my neighborhood, ending up down Bee Ridge and curving to the back of my neighborhood. When I thought about where I wanted to be, I was there. I thought Dag was pursuing me. I went down Halloween street. It's Halloween there. I turned the corner and my brother was with me. We saw orange trees and laundry on clotheslines and butterflies. It was day again. We told some old ladies what had happened. My borther talked. I did a dramatic cry thing. We went into a house. I though about contacting my parents. I didn't know how long we had to hide here. A murderer wanted us. A tv was on in another room, but I didn't pay attention to it. A lady pulled a pair of purple sneakers out of a basket in the linen closet. She told me I'd be safe when I had them on. I scoffed at the superstition. I was glad that I had socks on. The young lady was tall and had an Elizabeth nose. She told me to hang on, she had gone to the bathroom in the left shoe I had not yet put on. She returned and I guess she had cleaned it off. I was reluctant to put it on. They were 6's but they managed to fit. My brother took some dirty white sneakers. Why did he change his shoes, too, I thought? I was worried about footprints. He moved the glass cover off of a sailboat case very un-smoothly. My dad had had one and done it better. White lace curtains looking out the window to suburbia. My borther sat down and moved the curtain to hide himself. We watched and waited. What if there wasn't a crime at all, and we were running from nothing. They hadn't chased us. Why should they? I was afraid of police too. What if the screams were something else. What happened to the guy I sworded? I almost wished I had been killed. Ideas flew through my mind, until I woke up, right before Jim called to see if I was awake. I like dreams, but that one was scary. Nightmares don't scare me anymore.
What a weird movie? I loved it. I see very few movies; I live in a box.
Congres articles not getting done. Something I wanted to google... It's the rest of life...
I keep burning the roof of my mouth.
Why do I want to be odd if I hate to stand out?
I rehearse things before I say them, and things I say I repeat to other people.
I hope Jessica had a nice birthday. She's bringing me a cupcake, but I don't have a present. drat. I don't like chocolate cupcakes, but I'll eat it if it is one. Jim used to call me cupcake. Tick tock and roly poly fish heads. I regress far too much to childhood. I want to study math!!!
I wish I had more time away from people and obligations to get stuff done. When I'm not tired.
Luck= Ginny's first costume and dead- Anna costume. Sweat over a decade old trapped between fibers of lycra.
What would they say if they knew me?
Just like a mariachi band, I-I-I-I.
I prefer intellectual discussions, but the freshman don't add up. Now they stay away. Coincidences.
Continually fangirling, fad of this-and-that.
Turn in your Community Service Forms.
I forget too much, especially in the short-term.
Self-portrait is hmm.
I'm expecting a letter that frightens me. I hope my mom will accept what I tell her.
Grandma says I don't look happy in any of the pictures and that I should do less. There is no place for that in this world. Martial= you have sad eyes. Why do I keep myself so busy? I either want to prevent myself from going insane, or want to facilitate it. When I closed my eyes, I saw the stars I had been painting. Sitting two rows back, on the end. The ceiling looked like pizzas, as small as I remembered it. Visiting...
I'm not going to be a computer person. Do I have the patience? I want to be a math/science person but I like creative things too much.
Recurring dilemmas.
I'm done.
This is instead of therapy. It's actually less likely that my parents will find out here. They're most of the problem. My mom cannot use a word processor.
Maybe it was just a really nice sword. Yeah. One-handed and swift and driven by the grace of G---hosts...