And, and that bitch from Scrubs? You know not the blonde chick, and not the mexican chick, I mean that surly and cynical chick who hangs with the angry superior-doc, and the she gets pregnant? Yeah that bitch is hot.
(And I'm saying bitch, not to degrade women because I'm a woman myself and I wouldn't degrade my kind because I can't without degrading myself and I'm not there yet, but I'm saying bitch to make a point here. As in, YO BROTHER THAT BITCH IS SMOKING DAMN HOT!)
I figured it out and I must quickly write it down before I forget and then end up another ten years trying to solve the problem.
Okay, taking a deep breath.
I am not able to fall in love nor commit to any kind of serious relationship (there it is, the problem) because my expectations of such a relationship or a proper victim to fall in love with (yes, it's a victim, after all I'd stalk, capture and rape them) are too influenced by fictional characters of TV-shows and brainwashing society. It gave me a picture and an ideal of what my future SHOULD be that I can never, in real life, match up with. So all I have to do is change my taste in guys and I'll hook up soon enough, fall deeply in love, get married and have seven kids and a Chevrolet. Maybe even a Porsche Chayenne if he's a nerdy business man with money.
Oh please dear God, let him be a nerdy, good looking business guy with money. The Zach Braff kinda guy. Or Jason Bartha.
See what I mean?
All I have to do is change my habits in order to get my life working.
So easy.
Speaking of gay, this video and the song itself is so hilarious I just have to post it. It's NSFW unless you work for a gay magazine or at home like Avitable does. Please rob him and give me his new TV.
The video is basically a song about guys in locker rooms and what they supposedly do. If that's the truth I should join a soccer team.
My ex-boyfriend's presence at my school, in the classes we share and even on my ICQ buddylist is making me really uncomfortable, all the time. Knowing that he's back from his one-year exchange to the USA, that he has changed (and I'm still not sure if I like it) pisses me off, and that with each time I see him, I remember the pain he made me go through during our break-up.
On the other hand, I'm so desperately trying to show off as the cool one, as if this issue hadn't bothered me for more than twelve and a half seconds, that he doesn't seem to notice what a prick he really is. Which is annoying- are men really so dumb to think that they have left no impression at all, that I can just move on like this? Hello you retard, I'm totally still mad and pissed at you, but I'm not doing you the favor of telling you this.
Kind of screws my day, because I'd kill to have sex with him just once again. If there was one thing he was naturally good at, well, it was sex. And even though I'm "not in the mood", I'd do an exception. Either for him or for a girl but let's not talk about that because it would lead to my new found self-phobia. Seriously. I'm not gay.
...
I passed my mom's bedroom tonight, and I heard she was listening to some old Train song on TV, which got me thinking, hey, since when does your mom listen to (rather) new pop music. Or in fact, since when does she listen to any music at all?
Which reminded me that I haven't paid that much attention to her or her life in a long time. Actually, I haven't paid that much attention ever since I hit the age of 11, where things kind of went down for me.
It got me thinking. All that happened, I mean, it all got my head worked up really bad. The gross thing about it? Nothing really changed around me, but I know that inside, I'm a completely different person.
As soon as I hit puberty, I laid down any rules and moral standards I knew, despite having grown up in the worst scenario you could imagine: Relatively strict parents in a Western country. Not Iraq and not North Korea, but fucked up enough for me.
I took drugs and pumped everything possibly labeled as "bad" into my body; I got drunk and threw up on the pavement, I played along with the "big guys", having shots and girl fights and throwing fits on ace and doing random shit; sleeping out on the street, skinny dipping into the lake, shoplifting, hanging with the "gangsters", line after line, joint after joint- got drunk so bad I ended up in the hospital, I was the worst friend you could imagine. Sleeping through school and sneaking out at nights, sex with two people at the same time, and I'm talking about rumours here- because me, certainly, I can't remember anything of that. I just heard it. "Looks, that's S., let's see how fast we get her drunk and done tonight!"
Yep, that's me. I'd toy around with guns, play with fire, cut myself, beat little kids up and shout at elderly people. I'd go to concerts and everyone would back away from me because I was the dirtiest of them, I'd punch and pull hair and kick everyone, just because it's called moshing. Fuck the music.
Or, goddamn, cars! We'd jump right into them, 14 years old and no licence and not even close to legal, I'd hit the gas and speed away on the freeway, completely under the influence. Breaking into peoples backyards to hit our bongs right there, next to the fluorescent light of the swimming pool and in it, our reflections and then just jump right into it, with clothes, without clothes, who cares.
Spin the bottle, Aids, rape, who cares? Mugging people in the subway, breaking bottles at the stations, running away from the cops, spraying the landscape, pissing on sideways. That's the girlfriend you would really wanna have, dont you all?
And nowadays.. where do I start? I'm afraid of driving faster than 30 mp/h, I haven't been drunk in ages, my last sex is 3 months ago and I could never even bring the word "gay" beyond my head. I shower every day and I listen to Jack Johnson while fantasizing about Australia. I tutor kids at school and I'm having good grades. I don't lie to my parents all that shamelessly anymore, at least I feel bad when I do so. My diet is healthy, I'm not as broke as I could be and I'm taking care of my older brother while he's screwing up his life big ghetto style. Being out after 11PM frightens me, I dream of having six children and.. just a normal goddamn life.
I'm sitting in the theater or I'm reading a book, or in the rare occasions when I'm out at a bar, discussing Nietzsche or Freud with my so sophisticated friends, I look out of the windows and I see fourteen year olds staggering down the street with empty bottles in their hand and a lit fag in their mouth and I feel like I belong right there, right with the dirt, gimme all that.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not feeling as if I'm missing out on something. It's just that I miss my old self, you know? I know back then I just had to take some risks to fight the loneliness and the black shadows that surrounded me, those that I created on my very own. It's not so long ago that this fog lifted and I can see clearer. I don't feel particularly better, but at least I do see why I'm feeling so dried out and tired...
I went to see Panic! At The Disco, I met them in person and (metaphorically) shook hands and had a talk to them about my charming (real) 1$-note that they signed- but I fell in love with someone entirely different.
Because as soon as we went to the concert and I heard her voice singing over what sounded like a gazillion of decibels, I knew this was the woman of my dreams.
I mean, next to Jennifer Garner and everything. Nobody can beat that rank, she's just perfect. But that lead singer of the uber-phat Swedish band "The Sounds"? She rocks. And she's hot.
They were only the supporting act but I was a lot nicer to watch their gig than Panic's, although altogether, Panic was much cooler still. I know, I'm confused, too- the thing is, no one really ever wants to see the supporting act, right, unless it's something like, I don't know, something Emo the kids nowadays like. So the crowd was pretty polite and nice and just swaying and singing and having fun. But when Panic! started, people went bezerk and I wouldn't have imagined such a fallout even at the worst and slummiest redneck attended Slipknot act.
We were standing in 3rd line, and as soon as Brandon hit the stage, it was either dead or alive. I had been talking to a 12 year old cute boy who stood in front of me, and when the lights dimmed he suddenly vanished under the fat corpse of a 50-year old who reeked of sweat and beer. I was punched into my ribs, pushed into other people, and right at this moment I realize that I don't know enough English vocabulary to actually explain the outrageous dimensions it took. Just imagine a wild gone cattle of Emo, running into your back and breaking your bones.
So I took that beat and stepped out of the crowd, pushed my way to the back of the hall (as at least 300 other broken and disappointed girls did). When you go to a concert of moshing and pogo, you know it's going to be rough, but people help each other off the ground when they fall because they don't want to seriously injure themselves, if even at all. Panic! At the Disco? A hype with no comparison. It proves again that, frankly, going to concerts is not my kind of thing. The drinks are expensive, the sweat makes me nauseous and it's so much better to listen to the music in a club, where you can dance freely to it without feeling like rocks are getting thrown at you.
Now I'm more or less dreading to go to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers in two weeks. It seems like horror to me, there's going to be a tremendous crowd and crazy people and even crazier moshing. Tecker told me we had seats, but I'm not sure how cool that is. Which reminds me, I should probably start listening to the Stadium Arcadium, I hate it when I can't sing along. Except, I hate Stadium Arcadium, which leaves me out of it.
Tickets are being sold on Ebay for at least 150 bucks.
My family is falling apart. We keep fighting, especially about money issues. My dad is broke, I know that. Everyone knows that. But from all of the people in the world, my mom's the one who doesn't deserve it.
I woke up today to the sound of my dad's voice, screaming and actually... crying. I mean, really heart-wrenching if it wasn't so disgusting. He's been an asshole to me, but I understand his mood isn't the brightest.
But whatever it is, we can't do anything about it. My brother keeps spending money on shit that noone needs, doesn't get his life working... jumps from one job to the next, never doing anything about his education.
As for me, I don't have the time for a job- my schedule doesn't allow. And yet I need an income or I'll have to rely on my parents for ever-- be it my mobiles bill or a new car or whatever the fuck it is. Even clothes. Or food. And the worst? I can't pay for extra-maths classes, which I really desperately need to get going. I don't want to fail. It would be horrible.
So my mom, she's working her ass off, all day all night, but it's never enough. University is taking up all her time. I don't know how she can afford it, but she does. Yet not much longer than this. She's hurrying to get it done and make her doctor, but how long can our finances allow? Noone is going to employ my father- he's a smart guy who knows his business, but he's arrogant, shallow and too proud to be employed in a second-rate job- and the good stuff is taken by all the young people.
I'm not complaining about the lack of money.. of course, I'm not the wealthiest person in the world, but I can live without D&G jeans or expensive trips to Paris. What makes me choke on life is the fact that my parents aren't happy, that my family is suffering from the stress it's causing. Add mine and my brother's accidents, the cap repair, the insurance, my driver's licence, everything- deep shit I tell you.
This is why I don't want to grow up. I simply can't afford it.
It's really alot better to have a platonic friendship with a guy who's cute.
It's also really alot better when he's your best friend and YOU are the one who doesn't want to get physical.
What I like about kittens is that they are stylish and clean. I don't like dogs because I dream I'd have to kill them.
My Sony Ericsson is lovely and absolutely precious.
I'm broke again, and this time poker stroke.
I still don't have any girlfriends.
I hate Ramadan, I hate Islam, I hate religions, and sometimes I hate my family.
I'm floating through my bubble gum world waiting for the next best series to get my head around so I can forget my life for a while again.
