THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
Sometimes I just wish I was a normal human. And then I rememeber why I'm not.
Sitting.
Listening to H.I.M.
Which is rather an odd musical...Experience. It makes you want to cry and scream and die and then fall in love all at the same time. It does. Really.
I can't believe how many fucking CDs I have aquired in three some months. Since my birthday.....Twenty three. And counting. Got a new one today. Getting two more Monday. God only knows what the weekend will bring. I have money. And thus shall spend it whenever a chance arises. You realize, that I have gotten at least one new CD a week? That's almost sad. And I paid for very few of them. We can all just thank grandparents, birthdays, and my good friend the CD burner.
Anyway.
Out of my own idiotic universe and back into the other idiotic universe to which I am merely a member.
Today sucked. Sorta.
Everyone (in drama) were gone on some feild trip thing to Hollywood. It was suppsed to be awesome. But I of course couldn't go because of the black hole I've dug for myself with apathy and irrisponsibility. So no onw was here. Didn't get to talk to Amanda at all.
People were really, really rude to Amanda this morning when they found out that her brother is bi. Big fucking deal. Like we all didn't know this like a thousand years ago. They asked her if it ran in the family. How rude is that? They acted like it was some aweful scandal. I got pretty irritated and told them that as long as they were happy together and in love who the hell cares? But they still acted like it was something weirdly abnormal. This people are so closeminded. It pisses me off.
I had a Millencolin song about nose picking stuck in my head all day.
In English, people found the fact that I had drawn this little picture of a broken heart with bat wings all tagled up in thorned vines with "This is My Unopened Letter to the World" written in it very creepy and cool. So this one girl took the picture. She, of course, had no idea that it was part of a poem and asked if I had made it up. That also kind of pissed me off. I swear to God, we just fucking finished reading about Emily Dickinson. I don't know how people manage to process so little information. It's rather worrying.
Talked to Baker on the bus on the way home. Borrowed his CD. Talked about his friends Jackass video projects. I love meeting people who are that idiotic. But gutsy. Definitely gutsy.
And that was kind of it. Nothing big. Not a lot of big things happen here. Whatever.